


Four Years

by lettersinpetals



Series: Four Years [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Cheating, Eventual Happy Ending, Family Drama, Forgiveness, Found Families, Getting Together, Haikyuu!! Manga Spoilers, Healing, M/M, One Night Stands, Past Kita Shinsuke/Miya Atsumu, Redemption, References to The Haunting of Hill House, Sad with a Happy Ending, Side Kita Shinsuke/Miya Osamu, but not on the main pairings, emotionally hurt miya atsumu, i need him to be stable for the purpose of this fic, just thought i need to emphasize that, well-adjusted sakusa kiyoomi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:42:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 21,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25628422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lettersinpetals/pseuds/lettersinpetals
Summary: The thing is, Atsumu and Osamu were like that. Somehow always connected, always aware.For every fight, they’d share a victory. For every disagreement, they’d celebrate a triumph. For years, they’d be in each other’s throats, but they’d always have each other’s backs. Always. No matter what.Until Kita Shinsuke. Shinsuke, whom Atsumu loved. Shinsuke, who was Atsumu’s boyfriend for over a year.Shinsuke, who Atsumu caught naked and willing in Osamu’s bed, his very own twin on top of him.--This is a messy story of betrayal, and forgiveness, and healing, and love. And maybe finding a place to belong in the process.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu & Miya Osamu, Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Series: Four Years [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1883632
Comments: 297
Kudos: 1866
Collections: Haikyuu - angst, Haikyuu fics that made me cry, ~SakuAtsu~





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is going to be a pretty achy ride, folks. Families can be extremely messy. (Take it from someone who knows and has witnessed one too many fights and breakdowns at Christmas dinners.) It does get better though, and I hope you'll be as healed as Atsumu will be in the end. This story is done, but posting will be staggered. Enjoy, but do mind the tags first!

The cherry blossoms were in full bloom. If Miya Atsumu were to be honest, it was what gave him courage to confess.

A blossom drifted down from the trees to flutter against Kita Shinsuke’s hair harmlessly, and Atsumu couldn’t look away from this man he was in love with.

“I like you, too, Miya,” his captain said, and the world suddenly seemed brighter. Atsumu was awash with the thrill he only usually felt after pulling off a setter dump.

Smiling, he told Kita, “I told you, you should call me by my first name.”

“Okay,” Kita agreed. “I like you, too, Osamu.”

Atsumu jerked awake, gasping.

He hasn’t dreamed about Kita for so long. Months. Maybe even years.

Not to say he didn’t plague his thoughts every now and then but after four years, Atsumu liked to believe he’s gotten better.

It was 3:30 a.m. Witching hour. It figured.

Volleyball practice starts at 6 a.m., but he knew sleep was going to be impossible. So he dragged himself out of bed and decided to go on a morning run. He’ll figure out how to kill time later.

He hit the pavement by 4 a.m., and thought about his plans for the day, trying valiantly to avoid thinking about his dream.

The MSBY Black Jackals’ practice will take up the whole morning, and then they’ll be dismissed by lunch. After that it’s free time. He wondered what he’d do. Maybe begin a new Netflix series. He’d just finished “The Haunting of Hill House” the previous night, which might explain the nightmare and waking up at frickin’ 3:30 a.m.

That crap was some family drama disguised as a horror series. There were moments Atsumu actually screamed watching the show, but it made him choke up more than anything else.

He decided to face it. His feelings of unrest were because the show featured twins of all things.

He has not spoken to or seen Osamu for four years.

Throat tightening, he picked up his pace and ran, and ran, and ran.

\--

His serve landed out of bounds. Groaning, he smacked a palm against his face.

After his run and shower, he had half-heartedly played his kalimba for another half hour, then browsed through social media until he had to head to the gym. Nothing managed to shake off his funk.

Determined to exhaust the weird feelings out of him, he practiced his hybrid serve until their coach Samson Foster blew the whistle and gathered them around to tell them some of his observations.

“Miya.” Atsumu twitched at the name. “Half your serves were out of bounds. Try to achieve a 60 percent success rate by next Monday.” He had the weekend to shape up.

“Yes coach,” he said dejectedly.

When they were finally dismissed and back in the locker rooms, Bokuto Koutarou approached him. “Hey, hey, hey Tsum-Tsum! You alright?”

Atsumu liked Bokuto. He’s simple in a way — what you see is what you get. There’s nothing ingenuine about him. He had signed with the Black Jackals last year, and he has generally been unproblematic.

Unlike Atsumu. He smiled at Bokuto and slapped a hand on his shoulder. “I’m perfect. I just finished ‘The Haunting of Hill House’ last night and it freaked me out. I woke up at like, 3 a.m., do you think it’s like, psychosomatic?”

Their newest recruit, Hinata Shouyou, bounced his way to them in excitement. “Oooh, I heard that was really good! Let’s watch it! It has Japanese subs, right?”

Atsumu’s eye twitched at the thought of going through that again. “Eh, Shouyou-kun, it won’t be fun if I have to watch it all over again.”

“But you liked it, didn’t you? Let’s make it a team bonding experience! Less chances of getting scared that way!” That was just stupid. “Besides today is the perfect time to watch it, since we have the weekend off.”

Atsumu had to consider it. The team didn’t really hang out, and he never went out of his way to spend time with them or get to know them better. Sure, he was friendly to them, but he was also kind of a jerk to them, and he knew he wasn’t exactly anyone’s favorite person. His team back in middle school downright despised him. His high school team, well...he burned those bridges long ago.

But it was hard to resist Hinata’s bright brown eyes. They reminded him of someone else’s. He shoved that down. _Why am I thinking of him again?_

He agreed to go to the watch party, if only to stave off the inevitable mental spiral he’d suffer through when he goes back to his room alone.

“Are you coming, Sakusa-san? Please!” Hinata said, clapping his hands together and gazing up at the tall, black-haired man fixing his things in his locker.

And there’s another outlier. Out of the whole team, Sakusa Kiyoomi — also a relatively new recruit — was probably the most difficult to deal with. He was standoffish and finicky and sometimes had no sense of filter. He shied away from any kind of physical contact, and would refuse even Atsumu’s fist bump. He guessed the whole germ-aversion thing made him feel grossed out with everyone but it was just a fist bump!

The man in question gazed at Hinata with a scowl, then took a moment to consider it. To everyone’s surprise, he said, “Fine, but whoever’s room we’re staying in better be clean.”

Interest piqued, the rest of the team jumped in on the plan, including team captain Meian Shuugo, their libero Inunaki Shion, their middle blocker Adriah Thomas and their wing spiker Oliver Barnes.

Those four people Atsumu had known the longest. They were already in the team when Atsumu signed with the Jackals four years ago. But because of their age gap, he never quite formed strong bonds with them. He didn’t become friends with the old members of the team who had eventually left to play elsewhere either.

Plans settled, they took their showers and went out to lunch first, then stopped by the konbini for snacks and drinks. Atsumu had to admit he was getting curious. Their team was quite a mishmash of personalities, and while they play well together on the court, he didn’t know how well they’d mesh together out of it.

They had no problem squeezing into Meian’s room (“I swear it’s clean, I’m barely in there”), except for Sakusa, who claimed a comfy chair by the window, and Meian who settled on the other one. The rest piled on the bed and on blankets on the floor. The apartment rooms offered by the Black Jackals were roomy, but they were not meant to hold eight grown men at a time.

It took next to nothing for them to all get absorbed in the show. They got impatient at the gap in between episodes (“Hurry, press next, _just press next!_ ”), the need to know what happens next effectively seizing their attention as if they were watching a volleyball match.

Before he knew it, it was 8 p.m. and they were on the sixth episode, the one filmed in one long shot during a storm. It reminded him of another storm, from long ago. Atsumu could feel his throat tightening up again at the sheer misery, and _struggle_ , and brokenness of it. It really was a good family drama. And it struck too close to home.

And then they all ended up screaming during the episode’s terrifying climax, even Atsumu, who had already seen it.

When they finished with the episode, he hit the pause button. “Jesus Christ,” he said, putting a hand over his pounding heart.

“Didn’t you already watch this?” Inunaki asked.

“I did, but shit’s still terrifying, alright!”

“I thought my soul was going to evacuate from my body,” Bokuto said cheerfully.

“I’m more sad about the family,” Hinata said. “And the twins. Hey, Atsumu-san, is your twin bond like that? It’s practically psychic!”

His body seized as the whole team swiveled their heads to look at him in curiosity.

Clearing away the blockage on his throat, Atsumu said, “Nah. Osamu,” his voice wavered and he hoped nobody heard it, “and I don’t really get along. On the court, sure. But that was before.”

Before Osamu quit volleyball, before they had a falling out, before Atsumu left Hyogo in a rage and never looked back. _Before_.

Hinata hummed. “Guess it’s different for every twin. Anyway, let’s play the next one!”

“Seriously? It’s late,” he said.

“It’s only 8 p.m.” Surprisingly, this was Sakusa, who had made himself comfortable on his chair, and was staring at Atsumu with an expression he didn’t think he liked. Like he was an insect to be examined under a microscope. “There are only four episodes left. It’s Friday.”

“I wanna know what’s next,” Thomas said. “We can’t possibly stop there.”

So they continued on.

And then they were in the scene Asumu was dreading.

The character Luke tells his twin sister Nell, “I don't know how to do this without you.”

“Forgiveness is warm,” Nell says. “Like a tear on a cheek. Think of that and of me when you stand in the rain. I loved you completely. And you loved me the same. That's all.”

_That’s all?_

Atsumu sneakily dabbed at the corner of his eyes when tears threatened to escape. Thankfully, he wasn’t full on sobbing anymore, like he was last night.

They finished the series at almost 1 a.m. Not too late, honestly, but Atsumu felt like he ran a marathon. Many of them were wiping at their faces.

“Man, that was good,” Barnes said.

“I’m going to go home later and hug my kids,” Meian said. Each member of the team got a unit, whether or not they chose to stay there every day. Those on the team who have families to get back to usually only stay over before matches, or if they have late night plans such as this.

“Same,” Barnes said.

They stretched and cleaned up as best as they could, before trooping out the door.

Atsumu started heading towards his own room. Just as he thought that wasn’t such a disaster and that his team members weren’t so bad, a voice behind him asked, “So, how’s Osamu these days?”

He whirled around to face the impenetrable face of Sakusa Kiyoomi.

“Handling his business as usual, I suppose. We haven’t spoken lately,” he said, trying to play it off as casual.

“Hmm.”

He turned and took off, picking up the pace. “Well, see ya.”

\--

Later, in bed, he thought of Osamu. How was he these days?

After the success of his shop Onigiri Miya, which saw its beginnings in Hyogo, he is now expanding to Tokyo. The same city Atsumu is in. The announcement popped up on his social media feed a few days prior.

 _Osamu will be in Tokyo_. He didn’t know when. Might be days or weeks or months. The uncertainty and anticipation and dread was like a bee was hovering around Atsumu, waiting for the moment to strike.

He doesn’t know how long he can keep holding his breath.

\--

The thing is, Atsumu and Osamu _were_ like that. Like Luke and Nell, somehow always connected, always aware.

For every fight, they’d share a victory. For every disagreement, they’d celebrate a triumph. For years, they’d be in each other’s throats, but they’d always have each other’s backs. Always. No matter what.

Until Kita Shinsuke. Shinsuke, whom Atsumu loved. Shinsuke, who was Atsumu’s boyfriend for over a year.

Shinsuke, who Atsumu caught naked and willing in Osamu’s bed, his very own twin on top of him.

 _Forgiveness is warm_ , Nell said.

No. Just the thought of forgiving them _burned_.


	2. Chapter 2

The lack of bloodshed during their first team bonding seemed to have led Meian into thinking that they should all be friends now. He took more initiative in inviting everyone for lunch after their practices, or scheduling outdoor workouts that were more like team building exercises. Coach Foster seemed to be pleased with this development, as did Bokuto. Atsumu did get the feeling the loud man was a people person.

Atsumu thought that he himself was a people person too. He was just not a friends person.

He got to know more about his team members. About how Hinata happened to watch a match of the original Little Giant, inspiring him to become a volleyball player. About how Barnes and his wife had met. About how Sakusa was given the MVP title in collegiate volleyball.

Whenever they asked about Osamu or his family, he would divert their attention with another question, or he would answer as vaguely as possible.

How would he tell them that he hasn’t seen his family in four years? That his parents haven’t even come to see him in Tokyo since he left? That they must have forgotten that they did, in fact, have twins?

If he ever brought it up, he would inevitably be asked, “Why?” And he wasn’t sure he was ready to talk about that. If he’ll ever be ready. So he didn’t.

\--

They held more movie nights at Meian’s. They had already watched “The Umbrella Academy” and were now making their way through “Avatar: The Last Bender.”

It was pretty fun. Atsumu thinks maybe they’re all becoming friends. He learns that Hinata can effortlessly lighten the mood without trying. That Sakusa probably washes his hands more often than the whole team combined.

Atsumu liked being around them. They made him feel less alone.

\--

The bee struck months later, and Atsumu was caught unawares despite seeing it coming a mile away.

It was supposed to be a good day. It was Friday, and they were looking forward to their planned out-of-town trip, because Hinata had insisted on playing beach volleyball before the V. League season started.

They were going to Yugihama Beach for three days and two nights, which their coaches already approved. But first, they had to endure a grueling practice to make up for their absence on Monday.

Satisfied with his serves (he now had a 60 percent success rate), Atsumu headed to the showers while the team chattered excitedly about their trip the next day.

Atsumu really should have seen it coming. As a rule, he didn’t get to stay happy for too long.

When he exited the shower, towel wrapped around his waist and hair dripping, he saw Osamu standing around with his team members like he had business being there. He froze.

“Hey Atsumu-san, look!” Hinata said cluelessly. “Osamu-san is here, Meian found him waiting by the bleachers. Onigiri Miya is coming to Tokyo!”

Atsumu ran his eyes across Osamu, head to toe. His hair was back to dark brown now, but still styled in the opposite way Atsumu styles his. Atsumu’s own hair was still platinum blonde.

With some relish, Atsumu noticed that he was definitely more built than Osamu. That’s what his brother gets for quitting sports.

He raised his eyes back up to meet Osamu’s unreadable ones. “Atsumu,” his twin greeted.

He ignored Osamu and headed to his locker. He started putting on clothes, then drying his hair with his towel.

Osamu bore this with more patience than Atsumu expected, but even he couldn’t possibly have become anointed as a saint after all these years.

When Atsumu pulled his bag out of his locker, Osamu cleared his throat loudly. “How’ve you been?”

Atsumu slammed the locker door shut. Everything stopped. Quieted. “Skip the pleasantries, Osamu.”

“I need to talk to you about something.”

Atsumu turned around slowly and leaned back on the lockers. Casual. He hoped. “Is it about Onigiri Miya expanding to Tokyo? If so, congratulations.”

“ _Atsumu_. I’m trying here. This is serious.”

“Atsumu-kun, maybe you should listen to what your brother has to say.” Meian’s voice was pacifying.

In the tense silence, all Atsumu could register was that once again, _he_ was the mean brat and Osamu was the long-suffering victim. His whole team, his _own_ team had automatically made that designation, just like everybody had his whole life. It burned something inside him. His throat felt clogged.

“Go on, then, Samu. Why did you come see me after a whole four years of peacefully not speaking to each other?”

There were whispers of confusion. Everyone was certainly listening in now.

Osamu noticed too. “I...Maybe we should talk somewhere more private.”

“I’m not fucking going anywhere with you, you two-faced dick. Spit out what you have to say so I can go the fuck home.” _Let them see who you really are_. Atsumu felt like a cornered animal. Ready to lash out anytime. He wasn’t ready for this. Not even after all this time.

He and Osamu stared each other down. Then in an almost pleading voice, Osamu said, “I’m going to propose to Shinsuke.”

The words landed like a knife.

An old remembered pain hit him like a freight train and his vision swam for a moment. _He got the boy huh._ Of course he did. Osamu gets everything.

His twin was spewing out an explanation in what he probably hoped was a calming tone. “It’s been four years and I think it’s time.”

“Four years,” Atsumu said dully. Distantly. “Four years since I caught you with my boyfriend, and now you’re marrying him. Figures. It really fucking figures. You know just how to stick the knife in and twist it don’t you, Samu? You not satisfied ‘til I’m bleeding on the floor?”

At this, Osamu snapped. “The world doesn’t fucking revolve around you, you narcissistic prick. I’m chasing after my own happiness.”

There was a loud bang as Atsumu suddenly grabbed Osamu by the neck of his shirt and slammed him against the lockers. “ _And what about me, huh?_ You never gave a single fucking thought about me — definitely not when you took him to bed that night, huh?! And apparently every night after, fuck!”

Osamu shoved Atsumu back so hard he teetered back a couple steps. “You’re the one who fucking left and didn’t look back!” he screamed. “I called! I called so many times! I looked for you! But you were just gone!”

Some of Atsumu’s teammates were hovering like they were about to pull them apart. “Guys…” Meian sounded unsure this time.

Atsumu waved them away with a sharp hand gesture. He tried to pull himself together, but his eyes were wet, and his nose burning. He felt unraveled, and dangerously close to breaking down.

“You,” he heaved. “ _Always_ knew how to hurt me, every single time. And I lived with that. You _knew_ that it would break us. And you did it anyway. You make me fucking sick. And now you’re here to what, rub salt in the wound, huh?”

Osamu, meanwhile, has managed to calm himself down. _He always made it look so easy_ , he thought hatefully. “I wanted to say that I’m _sorry_ , Atsumu. For everything.”

Atsumu was shaking. He ran his hand over his face, trying to catch all the tears that escaped from his eyes. “You’re not. You got everything. And I’ve been spending all this time alone, because everyone from our friends, to our parents, to fucking _Kita_ liked you better — but what about me, Samu? Huh?”

Osamu looked stricken as he watched him. He took a step closer. Atsumu took a step back. “I didn’t come here to hurt you, Tsumu. I just want to —”

“ _What?_ What more could you _possibly_ want from me?”

Osamu dragged a hand through his hair, looking angry and frustrated. “I just want my brother back!”

“Maybe if you hadn’t fucked me up the way you did, this wouldn’t be a problem.”

Atsumu took another step back. “You know the worst part? If I could do it over, I would have handed him to you in a heartbeat if it meant I could keep my best fucking friend.”

He watched Osamu’s face crumple. “Tsumu…”

“Save it,” he said sharply. He inhaled shakily, and exhaled all the fight he had left in him. He wiped his face again. “I’m not your problem anymore. You don’t owe me anything. We’re done.”

He walked towards where he dropped his bag, giving Osamu a wide berth. He picked it up and shouldered it. Then paused and looked straight at Osamu.

“If it’s my blessing you want then you have it. You deserve each other.” He turned and began walking towards the doors. He called out, “But if you care about me at all, don’t contact me again. Don’t look for me, don’t visit me, just — don’t. Tokyo wasn’t far enough from you. I should have moved to fucking Antartica.”

“Can you never forgive me Tsumu?” Osamu’s voice was quiet.

Atsumu stopped walking. He turned his head to the side but didn’t dare look at his brother.

 _“_ You always ask too much from me. There is nothing _left_ in me anymore, Samu.” Then he stepped out through the doors and for the second time in his life, left Osamu behind.

\--

Atsumu was able to reach the alley near the Black Jackals’ apartment complex before his strength left him.

Leaning against a wall, he braced his hands on his knees and let out painful sob after painful sob. He hasn’t cried like this since he left Hyogo, his brother and boyfriend’s betrayal stinging like a fresh wound.

After an indeterminate amount of time, he dragged himself to his room, removed his jacket and shoes off and collapsed into his bed.

He didn’t think he had anything more left in him, but tears still fell now and then as Osamu’s words played over and over in his mind.

_“It’s been four years and I think it’s time.”_

Osamu didn’t come to Atsumu to try to fix things with him. He came to hammer down the final nail on the coffin that will forever bury their relationship.

Atsumu felt like someone had died, and it wasn’t because of Kita.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm...sorry? Something had to get the ball rolling!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's have some beach fun. Warning for alcohol content and an nonexplicit one night stand with an OC!

When Atsumu woke the next day, he considered skipping out on the entire trip. How could he possibly face his teammates when they’ve seen the worst and ugliest part of him? The part of him that Kita decided he didn’t want, the part of him that destroyed all his relationships, the part of him he unwittingly bared to them in a moment of infuriating vulnerability.

He _hated_ Osamu. He just had to ruin _everything_.

But he figured hiding away would be more embarrassing for him. He had to show them that he’s going to bounce back from this, that he’s over it. That he wasn’t still pining over his ex-boyfriend who cheated on him, or smarting from his brother’s betrayal.

Still, he waited until the last possible second before jumping out of bed.

He hissed when he saw the state of his eyes. The puffiness and redness screamed, “Why yes, I did cry myself to sleep last night.”

He took a bath hoping it’ll help him feel more like himself, but there was no such luck. He donned a white shirt and jeans, deciding that he’ll change into beach clothes when he gets to their Airbnb. After double checking his things, tossing in his kalimba the last second, he slipped on a pair of white shoes and dark sunglasses. Nevermind that he’s still indoors, not to mention it was overcast in Tokyo.

He was the last to arrive in the lobby at five minutes past the call time of 8 a.m.

“Tsum-Tsum!” Bokuto yelled. “You came!”

This is what he’d been dreading. “‘Course. Said I would.”

Hinata flitted around him, eyes wide. “We were about to storm into your room and come get you if you weren’t here in another 5 minutes. Are you okay Atsumu-san?”

Are they going to fucking pretend that yesterday never happened? Well, then. Atsumu would gladly play along with that. He smiled, not caring if it reached his eyes. They couldn’t see them anyway. “I’m perfect, Shouyou-kun. Let’s go now.”

They trudged to Barnes’ family van. Atsumu took the window seat in the last row to avoid interaction, and ended up sitting next to Sakusa.

He relaxed. Mr. I-Hate-People-And-Germs was the best company he could have right now, because he doesn’t talk much. Except for the occasional snide remarks.

Still exhausted from his sleepless night, Atsumu ended up falling asleep during the 2-hour ride to Yugihama Beach.

The sound of whispering and giggles and the sound of a camera shutter woke him up.

“Take a video,” someone hissed. The solid warmth beside him gave an irritated sigh. Atsumu’s head bobbed with the movement.

Wait, what?

Groggily, Atsumu jerked away from where his head had been resting on Sakusa’s shoulder. The van burst into laughter.

“Well good morning to you, Sleeping Beauty,” Inunaki said.

“Shit,” he croaked out eloquently. He pushed up his sunglasses to the top of his head and looked at Sakusa, who looked grumpily back at him. “Sorry. Ya should’ve just shoved me.”

Sakusa’s eyes lingered on his own. With a jolt of realization, Atsumu fumbled with his sunglasses and shoved them back on.

“Whatever,” Sakusa replied flatly. Then they all started trooping out because apparently they were in their destination.

The fresh air smacked into his face, but it felt like a balm to his soul. _It was a good idea to come,_ he thought. This might just be what he needed.

\--

Their Airbnb had two large bedrooms with two queen beds each, but only one of them had room for extra mattresses on the floor. When it was clear it was going to be a tight fit, Atsumu volunteered to take the sofa bed in the living room.

He stashed his bag in one of the cabinets and collapsed on the sofa bed. He closed his eyes. Without meaning to, he dozed off.

He woke to a yell of “Tsum-Tsum! You can’t just sleep the day away!” _Ugh_. Bokuto.

Hinata shouted, “Let’s play beach volleyball!”

Atsumu dragged himself up and saw they were all dressed for the beach. He said, “Just a sec.”

He went to the bathroom and noticed with amusement that he was still wearing his sunglasses. He removed them and checked his reflection. His eyes were still a bit swollen and squinty, but nothing that couldn’t be explained away by lack of sleep.

He decided to keep the glasses off. He didn’t want it falling off while playing anyway. He swapped his shoes for slippers, changed out of his jeans and into sky blue beach shorts, and kept the white shirt on. Then he lathered on a large amount of sunblock on the places not covered by clothing. He finished up by rinsing his mouth with Listerine.

He stepped out of the bathroom, then faced his team.

“Alright, let’s do this.”

\--

Being out on the beach chased away the last of the drowsiness and suddenly, Atsumu was rejuvenated. His good mood lasted up until he fell flat on his face trying to receive a ball.

He pushed himself up on his forearms and glared up at Hinata and Bokuto who were doubled over laughing like hyenas. 

“Oi, Bo! You’ll be tripping soon enough, you don’t have the right to laugh!” he complained.

Meian beside him was laughing boisterously too.

“Betrayed by my team,” he muttered as he got up, brushing sand off himself.

From where the rest of the team were sitting on the sidelines, Barnes yelled, “Don’t mind, don’t mind!”

To Atsumu’s satisfaction, everyone except Hinata tripped on the sand as they played game after game. He hasn’t laughed so hard and so much in so long. It felt nice. Freeing.

Sakusa had taken a lot of convincing before he agreed to play a game, teaming up with Atsumu.

“Try not to have a breakdown when you fall on the sand,” Atsumu smirked at him.

Sakusa gave him a baleful look. “You want to talk about breakdowns, Miya?”

Wrinkling his nose, Atsumu opted to poke his tongue out at him like the 23-year-old he was. Not his finest moment.

Sakusa did _not_ in fact have a breakdown when he inevitably fell, missing a spike. He did however look at Atsumu as if he was going to murder him.

“What? That wasn’t my fault!” Atsumu said, chortling.

“Your toss was too high,” Sakusa snapped back.

“Hey, you try setting in this sand!”

Thomas clapped from the other side of the net. “Boys. Focus.”

By some miracle, they won that game. Atsumu grinned at Sakusa victoriously and he could have sworn something in the other man’s face softened.

But this was Sakusa Kiyoomi they were talking about, so he was probably mistaken.

\--

Come night, the beach came alive. There were a dozen restaurants and open bars to choose from, different kinds of music blaring from different directions.

Come night, everything he’s been trying to avoid was starting to catch up to him.

They were in a resto-bar that had a lively crowd on the dancefloor and Atsumu alternated between the mess of bodies there and the bar.

“Atsumu-kun,” Meian said. “Don’t you think you’ve had enough?”

Atsumu jerked his mojito away when Meian tried to take it. “I haven’t had nearly enough, Cap!”

He slipped back into the dance floor, vision somewhat turning, but that just meant the alcohol was doing its job.

Hands were touching him, bodies pressing against him, and at some point a pair of lips biting his neck.

Atsumu looked down at a tan, long-legged brunette.

“Hey,” she purred.

Atsumu raised a brow. “Hey.”

They danced song after song, things slowly getting heated, until they were tumbling into the bathroom, lips attached.

“Condom?” he rasped. He didn’t exactly plan this out.

Luckily, the girl, whose name he didn’t know, had come prepared.

The next 15 minutes were a mess of limbs and spit and moans. The girl had wicked nails. They ran through his scalp, then went under his shirt and clawed his back, _hard_.

“Jesus,” he gasped.

When they tumbled out and went their separate ways, he headed straight to the bar.

However, he was intercepted.

“What the fuck!” Inunaki screamed at him. “We’ve been looking for you! We’re going the fuck back to our guesthouse, right _now_.”

“What are you screaming for,” he complained. His vision was really swimming now.

He staggered out of the restaurant with Inunaki gripping his arm. Cold air hit him like a splash of water and he shivered.

“Found him, Cap.”

“Jesus Christ, Atsumu,” Meian sighed. “You’re a mess.”

Vaguely, he recognized that the entire team had been waiting together outside in the dark.

He slurred, “Sorry. Got uh, kidnapped.”

“You seemed pretty willing,” Inunaki said drily and shoved him so he’d start walking. “Who was she?”

He stumbled. “Uhhh. Dunno. Brown hair. Sharp nails.”

He heard Thomas laugh and felt a smack on the middle of his back. Pain ran down his spine and he jerked away. “Ow, fuck! Don’t do that. I told ya she had sharp nails!”

The night air was filled with wolf whistles and chuckles as they made their way back to their Airbnb.

Inunaki’s hand kept his grip on Atsumu’s shoulder the whole way there.

By the time they got to the guest house, Atsumu was dangerously close to crashing. Inunaki had already let go of him.

He tripped over the threshold and would have fallen on his face, if not for strong hands catching his shoulders from behind. Cold fingers gripped Asumu and led him to the sofa bed, guiding him to lie down.

“I got him,” a low voice near him said, and there were mutters of acknowledgement before they were left alone in the silence.

“Omi-kun?” he murmured.

“You fucking idiot,” Sakusa replied.

“That seems to be the general consensus.” He shut his eyes.

“I’m putting a bucket beside you for when you inevitably puke. But you better clean this shit tomorrow.”

Then he was alone.

The only thought that followed him to sleep was that Sakusa willingly touched him for the first time since he'd known him.

\--

In what was fast becoming a regrettable habit, Atsumu woke to giggles and a phone camera directed at his face. “He’s awake now,” Bokuto whispered from where he was recording.

“Get that shit off my face,” he ground out in a hoarse voice.

There was a smattering of laughter.

“Get up, Tsum-Tsum! We gotta play more beach volleyball!”

The idea made something in his stomach turn. He tried to get up and his head pulsed painfully. He placed a hand on his temple. “Fucking _ow_.”

“I told you you were drinking too much last night,” Meian scolded.

When he tried to move, his stomach turned again and this time he couldn’t stop it. He blindly felt around for the bucket on the floor, before leaning over the couch and throwing up.

The good news was that he managed to puke in the bucket.

The bad news was that Bo managed to catch that on camera.

He was never living this down.

\--

He was in no condition to play beach volleyball so he was sitting on a blanket on the ground with Sakusa. The rest of the team were cheering Hinata, Inunaki, Barnes, and Meian as they played.

He felt a lot better after a thorough bath and rehydrating with some Berocca. But he still felt wrung out and left to dry.

“I kinda wanna swim,” he told Sakusa idly.

“So swim,” was Sakusa’s answer. The jerk seemed to be reading something on his phone.

“I can’t,” Atsumu sighed. “I haven’t put sunblock.”

“So put sunblock.”

He made a whining noise. He didn’t really want to move but the clear water was inviting. It looked cleansing.

He took off his shirt and felt around for the sunblock. He applied to the areas he could reach, but there was one spot that was impossible to catch.

“Omi-Omi,” he began. “Can you get my back, _please_.”

“No.”

“Come on. If you don’t I’ll just sit around here whining until somebody does.”

A sharp sigh. “God. You’re a giant baby.”

Then Sakusa’s fingers plucked the sunblock from Atsumu’s hand. Atsumu stared at him for a moment, surprised he actually agreed, then quickly turned to present his back before he changed his mind.

Atsumu immediately regretted it when his back started to sting. He arched away from fingers smearing sunblock on his skin. “Ow!”

“Be still,” Sakusa snapped. “That’s what you fucking get for sleeping around.”

For the next few seconds, Sakusa seemed to take an unholy delight in Atsumu hissing and cursing. Thankfully, the pain numbed down after initial contact.

Sakusa started to run his hand around his back. Slowly. Atsumu held his breath.

When he felt a fingertip trace lines across his back, electricity ran down his spine and it had nothing to do with the scratches.

He turned his head and watched Sakusa. The other man lifted his eyes from where he was studying Atsumu’s back to meet his gaze.

Atsumu cleared his throat. “Thought you didn’t like touching.”

“It depends.”

“On what?”

“Many things.”

That seems to be the only thing he’s getting out of him today.

Trying to get his bearings, unsure why he’s feeling so unmoored, Atsumu slowly got up. “I’m going for a swim.”

Sakusa simply nodded and went back to his phone.

Later, when he’s submerged underwater, he figured he was right. The sea _was_ cleansing.

\--

When they found a restaurant for lunch, the uneasiness in Atsumu’s stomach told him he wouldn’t be able to eat anything yet.

He stuck with water. Although to his relief, Meian produced a paracetamol for his persistent headache. He immediately downed it.

“Ahh, fuck. The heartbreak ain’t even worth this pain.” He shook himself, then announced. “That’s it, I’m done, I’m letting it go. Don’t fall in love, kids.”

Thomas leaned forward in interest. “Can we...you know. Ask?”

Atsumu mulled this. They already saw the worst of it. Telling the story can’t possibly make anything worse.

Besides, he felt he owed them an explanation for the past three days. “Yeah, fine. When we go, I’m leaving it all behind here. We don’t need memories.” Funny how his high school slogan becomes applicable at the most unexpected times.

“What in the world happened?” Bokuto burst out, like he’s been waiting for this chance. “You two were like _the_ Miya twins! Like _The Miya Twins_.”

Atsumu couldn’t help but feel bitter at that. “Yeah. Thought we’d play together ‘til the end. But I loved volleyball just a bit more than he did. We had a huge fight when he told me he was quitting volleyball after high school.” He took a swig of water, bracing himself. “And then there was Kita Shinsuke.”

The rest of them unconsciously leaned in, until they were all huddled around the table, looking like they were plotting some elaborate murder. The amusement of it soothed Atsumu, made the whole thing feel quite therapeutic.

“He was our captain. I think everyone fell in love with Kita at some point, he just had that pull, y’know? But I was the one who took it further. I honest-to-god loved the dude, I did since I was in first year. When we got together right before he graduated high school, I was over the fuckin’ moon.

“It was great for a while. He’d visit me in my house,” his breath caught in remembered pain. “He’d just come over after university classes. He went to a local one, so it was...pretty damn often. That he would be there. I didn’t see the signs.

“I had offers to join some pro volleyball teams, and I wasn’t sure that I wanted to go to university. So I was busy with all that, and discussing shit with my parents. They weren’t happy that I wanted to skip college entirely. Then I decided to sign with the Black Jackals, obviously, and I waited for the next time he’d visit so I could tell him about my decision.

“I came home one day and was so excited to see his shoes by the door, I didn’t fuckin’ hesitate. Just went around and looked for him. How was I supposed to fucking know anyway? When I saw them legit _fucking_ on Osamu’s bed it just — ” Atsumu made a vague gesture for _ripped my heart out of my chest and tossed it in a shredder_. “The only thing I could think was, I should’ve seen that one coming. But I didn’t because I was an _idiot._ ”

He suddenly felt incredibly tired. He saw Hinata wipe at his eyes, and couldn’t help the rush of fondness and amusement.

“I just up and left. Told the Black Jackals I was comin’. Told my parents I was leaving, and just...left Hyogo. I didn’t even get to pack all my shit. My parents had to ship them to Tokyo. At the time they probably thought Samu and I were just fighting and I was being overdramatic.” He shrugged. “I never went back. And I haven’t spoken to Samu or Kita since then, I avoided any news about them... I didn’t know until yesterday that they actually stayed together, like they were just waiting for me to get out of the way. And now they’re going to get fucking engaged.”

“The nerve!” This was Meian, much to everyone’s shock. “Your own brother…”

“You’re a dick Atsumu, but no one deserves that,” Inunaki said.

Barnes said, “We always thought you went through some tough shit. You just popped up one day looking like you witnessed a murder of a loved one or something.”

“Yeah, and you were such a fake ass, no one could get through to you,” Inunaki added. “I’m shocked we even managed to be friends, even if it took years. Like I said, you’re a dick.”

Atsumu honestly never thought about what he must have seemed like to them back then. He was so deep in his misery and pain that he couldn’t see anything except the path he chose. A path that he had decided to walk alone, eyes staring dead ahead.

And of course, it was Osamu who managed to break him so hard that everything ugly inside him was suddenly displayed for the world to see.

Hinata was still wiping tears. “This is so sad...”

“Yes, well. Thought I was over it. It wasn’t Kita so much as the goddamn betrayal. Fucking Osamu. He just had to come back and ruin everything again.”

“Hey now, nothing is ruined,” Barnes said firmly. “We all get knocked off course every once in a while, but we keep getting up right? You’re one of the best athletes in the scene, you’re doing what you love for a living, and you have great teammates, if I do say so myself.” Everyone chuckled. “And we’re going to kick ass in this season’s V. League and show that Kita that he picked the _wrong_ twin.”

“Yeah! We got your back bro!” Bokuto yelled.

Atsumu sighed and said, “Nah. Kita and Osamu makes more sense than me and Kita ever did. But...thanks. For...just, thanks.”

Then he smiled a real smile, for the first time in three days. Or maybe four years.

It felt like the start of healing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *cries* He's trying, alright? Next time, we'll get the ball rolling on this SakuAtsu.


	4. Chapter 4

That night, Atsumu made the mature decision not to get plastered.

“Go have fun,” Atsumu told the older men in the team. “It’s your turn.”

“And you’re going to behave and be responsible?” Meian said suspiciously.

“I already got it all out of my system,” he said firmly. Then he smirked. “Literally.”

His friends — yes, they were definitely friends now — looked at him in disgust and then left.

“How magnanimous of you,” Sakusa said from beside him.

“I am always this kind,” Atsumu said.

“Now that’s just a lie.”

Atsumu grinned at him. “Let’s play a game.”

“You literally just promised Meian you won’t be drinking.”

“And I won’t be! See, I’m drinking fresh apple juice,” he shook his glass at him. “Let’s play Truth or Dare. If we don’t want to answer or do the dare, we just drink.”

Sakusa looked at Atsumu’s apple juice, then his own draft beer. “Fine.”

Atsumu hid his surprise. Sakusa has been indulging him far more often lately.

“Okay then.” He glanced at the bar, where Meian, Thomas, and Barnes were taking shots. On the dance floor, Hinata and Bokuto were doing a brilliant job of embarrassing themselves.

He and Sakusa were at a table in the outskirts of the restaurant, somewhat detached from the lively music and crowd. Cold wind would occasionally wisp past their faces. It was a nice night.

“I’ll go first,” Atsumu announced. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

“I dare you to dance the macarena.”

With a black glare, Sakusa took a drink. “This isn’t fair. You have nothing to lose if you refuse.”

“Do you want me to get drunk again?”

A resigned sign. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“What did you like about Kita?”

Atsumu stared at him open-mouthed. Then he closed his mouth and wondered if he dared answer it. He watched the people moving around on the dance floor.

“He was...meticulous. Sure of himself. Actually kind of a robot, actually. So when he gave me some food and drinks from a convenience store when I got sick, with a note and all, I thought it was really...sweet.” He shrugged. “I dunno. I’ve tried not to think of him for years.”

“Hmm,” Sakusa was studying him.

“Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“Why have you been touching me?” It’s been plaguing him.

“Do I need a reason? I just wanted to. You just seemed more —” Sakusa hesitated. “Reachable lately.” _Safe_ , is what Atsumu heard.

“Because I’ve been miserable?”

“Because you’ve been vulnerable.”

Atsumu thought of this, and didn’t dare think about his pounding chest. _Stop it. Don’t go there._

They lightened up in the next few rounds. Neither of them chose dares so they just went straight to asking questions, and drinking if they didn't want to answer them.

They talked about high school volleyball, the people they used to compete against, and their current team members.

When he asked Sakusa if he’d been in relationships before, he surprised him by answering he dated a couple guys in college, before deciding to give up on that.

“Why’d ya break up?”

“They couldn’t handle my...fussiness.”

Atsumu snorts. “Their loss.” He couldn’t believe they had the cold, untouchable but undeniably handsome _Sakusa_ to agree to date them and then let him go. That jawline can cut glass. Not to mention the moles... _Stop,_ he thought again.

Sakusa gave him an unreadable look for that. Then he asked, “Have you been in a relationship since Kita?”

“Nah. Safe to say that whole thing traumatized me and exorcised any desire to be in one.”

“It's been four years since then.”

Atsumu squirmed. “Yeah but...I mean. I’m pretty sure I’m over Kita. A part of me will probably always love him or something, but I’m not waiting in the wings if that’s what you were wondering about. Even if he were to come back to me, I wouldn’t take him back, you know? But just the thought of being screwed over like that just — I can’t. I have frickin trust issues now.”

He asked Sakusa about his family — he just said they weren’t close, and he’s been living alone since university.

Then Sakusa asked Atsumu when the last time he talked to his parents was. Atsumu frowned.

“Whatever the last holiday was. Or birthday. Shit, I don’t remember, I try not to talk to them because they would always try to bring up Osamu, and then I’d just hang up.”

“You know,” Sakusa said carefully. “Four years is a long time.”

He started feeling defensive. “I’m aware.”

“Your parents...probably don’t deserve the silent treatment.”

He snapped, “You don’t understand.”

“Then tell me.”

Atsumu sighed sharply. “Osamu was always the damn favorite. He was easier to handle, more mature, more responsible, more everything. On the other hand, I was volatile. Pushy. I come on too strong. Everyone always thought he was the easier pill to swallow. He pretends to be fucking nice too, the prick. He was hardly ever nice to _me_ ,” he said scathingly.

Then he slumped. “I guess I don’t want to find out what they think about this whole thing. If they think I had it coming, or they think Osamu deserved Kita more, or—” his throat closed up. He blinked hard. “And it’s not like they made efforts to rebuild connections with me.”

A beat of silence. Then, sternly, Sakusa said, “ _You_ deserved better than _them_.”

Touched, Atsumu said, “Thanks, Omi.”

“But still. You can’t presume to know what your parents are thinking.”

He decided to ignore that, and asked Sakusa about his germaphobia.

“In college, when I decided to eventually go pro after graduating, I knew I had to get over myself. The environment won’t always be controlled to my liking, and I didn’t want to risk losing my shot.” 

That made sense.

Sakusa told him about going to therapy, which he already went through as a child but stopped when he reached high school. His new therapist had introduced exposure therapy, and it was still something he practices to this day.

“Most days I’m fine. I prefer it when things are clean and people don’t touch me, but I won’t have a meltdown if the opposite happens. But on bad days I can’t bear to be near anyone.”

“That sounds...hard.”

“For you, maybe,” Sakusa said. “This is just how I’ve been all my life.”

Without thinking, Atsumu laid a hand on the table between them, palm up.

Sakusa stared at him then at his hand. Slowly, he touched the tips of his fingers against his palm. Then pressed in.

Heart racing, Atsumu thought this wasn’t like the hand running down his back this morning, or the hands gripping his shoulder last night.

Everything about this was deliberate.

“Exposure,” Sakusa murmured.

They jumped and quickly retracted their hands when Bokuto and Hinata crashed into their table, laughing and drunk.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Bokuto shouted. Hinata mimicked him. “I’m drunk!”

“I can see that,” Atsumu said, highly amused. “You kids better sit down.”

Hinata yelled, “No!”

Then they ran towards the bar where the grown ups were still sitting in.

Meian took this as his cue, gathered everyone, and herded the group back to the Airbnb.

Later, when everyone was knocked out, Asumu couldn’t sleep. He didn’t have a single drop of alcohol in his system, and his thoughts were tumbling around each other in his brain. He got up, dug out his kalimba, and went out to the balcony.

The sea was really quite beautiful. Especially at night. Inhaling the salty air, he started to relax. He settled himself on the railing and then played “Moon River.” He would always do this in his apartment, whenever his regrets and past sins kept him up at night.

He heard a noise and looked up.

Through the curtains, Sakusa was watching him curiously.

Atsumu gestured for him to come closer.

“I didn’t know you played. What’s that?”

“It’s a kalimba. Picked it up when I just moved to Tokyo.” _When I had no one to talk to and too much time to be miserable._

“Continue playing that song.”

“Demanding. But alright. It’s called ‘Moon River,’ from that Audrey Hepburn movie.” He started playing the song again. It was one of his favorites, because the melody was soothing and on the kalimba, it was somewhat haunting.

When he finished, Sakusa said, “It sounds like a creepy lullaby.”

Atsumu grinned at him. “I know right?” Then he offered the kalimba. “Wanna try?”

With a narrowed-eye stare at the instrument, Sakusa took it. Then he just looked at it as if he didn’t know what to do with it.

“You just kind of pluck it with your thumbnails. Just press down — yeah like that.”

Fascinated, Sakusa started plucking out random notes. It still sounded nice. It was practically impossible to produce ugly sounds from a kalimba. Even just random notes with no rhyme or reason end up sounding like a legitimate song.

Sakusa handed it back and Atsumu took it. “These are how the keys are laid out.” He demonstrated how to play all the notes in order beginning with C, thumbs moving intervally. “It’s pretty easy to learn. I knew I wouldn’t be able to maintain playing the piano or guitar or whatever because it takes too much time and brainwidth and I’m already focused on volleyball. But this takes no effort to take around. I usually play in bed before sleeping.” More accurately, when he couldn’t sleep.

“I see.” Sakusa stared at him some more. “It suits you, for some reason.”

He tilted his head. He didn’t know what that meant. He decided to play another song. “This is ‘Kataware Doki’ from ‘Kimi no Na wa’.”

The familiar melody curled around them before being swept away by the sea breeze.

He didn’t know how long they stayed there looking over the sea, making music and conversation. Atsumu never would have thought he’d get to spend time with Sakusa like this. He always seemed closed off, and always acted like Atsumu was the biggest jerk he’d ever met. That was — fair.

He played song after song, and tried not to admire the way Sakusa glowed like an ethereal being in the moonlight. The way his hair would get tousled by the wind every once in a while was devastating. _Why am I noticing this now? When did we get so close?_

He played until he had to stifle a yawn and Sakusa said they should go to bed. His mind immediately went to the gutter, and he shot down those thoughts immediately. _Danger_ , his heart warned.

But when he slept, it felt like his best rest in a long time.

\--

They got to squeeze in one last swim before getting ready for check-out. The process of packing up was one chaotic nightmare and Atsumu was relieved when they were in the van and headed back home. To Tokyo.

Feeling bold and somewhat irrational, Atsumu rested his head on Sakusa’s shoulder. When the man shockingly didn’t protest or complain, he settled in to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: Atsumu prob needs a hobby  
> Me: *glances at my new kalimba, freshly bought in my quarantine delirium*  
> Me: That'll do
> 
> Also, I love Moon River. I like to play that in my violin, and I'm learning it in kalimba too. It's so enchanting!
> 
> P.S. I truly believe that music heals the soul.
> 
> P.P.S. Anyone spot the Kuroo reference?


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this before I knew the Black Jackals were based in Osaka so...in this universe they're based in Tokyo, alright, bye!

Things between him and Sakusa get weird as the V. League looms closer. It felt like Sakusa opened the door a crack, and Atsumu was torn between seeing how far he could push it, and running towards the opposite direction screaming.

Sakusa would stand a bit closer than he usually would; he’d indulge Atsumu when he’d strike a conversation; once, he even cracked a smile at Atsumu’s joke.

And god, the touching.

It was like Sakusa took their tiny moment in that seaside restaurant as permission to continue his “exposure therapy” because now he would flick Atsumu on the forehead, shove him on the shoulder when he’s being annoying, and punch him on the arm when he’s being a flirt — all of this to his team’s slack-jawed amazement. Sakusa doesn’t touch anyone.

Just Atsumu.

Once when they were walking to their apartment building, Sakusa’s knuckles brushed against the back of Atsumu’s hand and he twitched, his heart shooting up to his throat. Spooked, Atsumu shoved his hands in his pocket and deliberately didn’t meet the gaze he felt burning against the side of his face.

 _Pretend none of this is happening_ , his brain advised him. _You are definitely not infatuated with your teammate, who is way out of your league by the way, and he is definitely not making the move on you._

He doesn’t allow himself to consider it. Therein lies madness.

\--

Everything comes to a head on the very first match of the season: the highly anticipated Schweiden Adlers vs. MSBY Black Jackals showdown in Miyagi. It had been an incredibly hyped match and Atsumu was sure he'd be seeing a lot of familiar faces from high school. A rush of nostalgia hit him. Things were so simple back then.

Atsumu was extremely excited for the match. But something in his stomach clenched at the thought that maybe his old teammates would be watching, whether in person or through TV. What did they think of him now? They had watched him pine over Kita, and witnessed Kita eventually choose the _other_ Miya. He might be a volleyball star now, but to the people he used to know, he would probably always be the scorned twin who ran away to another city.

He shook his head. He shouldn’t think of such things now.

“You’re going to go out there and you’re going to kick ass,” Coach Foster told them. “I’ve watched you all nearly every day, and I can say we’ve never had a better lineup in years. Remember all your training. And more importantly...have fun.”

They cheered.

Then it was showtime.

After the Adlers were introduced (they were totally snubbed, the dicks), they proceeded to warm up. And that’s when Atsumu’s world tilted on his axis.

He didn’t know what compelled him to turn his head and look. But there on the food stalls stood Osamu, wearing what must have been his usual Onigiri Miya getup, looking straight at him. He wore a cap but Atsumu would recognize him anywhere. He dropped the ball he was holding.

Then Osamu’s head tilted up and to the right and Atsumu followed his gaze, dread building in his chest.

It took a while for him to spot them. There in the lower box, visible from where Atsumu was standing, were his parents...and Kita Shinsuke. Watching him.

A storm began to brew inside him. His breath started coming in faster. He couldn’t move. All he could think was: _How dare they come here?_

And then Sakusa was suddenly obscuring his vision, looming close to him. “Atsumu. Snap out of it.”

Lips barely moving, he said, “They’re here. All of them. Osamu, my parents...Kita.”

Large hands framed his face. “Just look at me.” He did. And then he was caught in Sakusa’s inky black gaze. He calmed down. “They don’t matter. Not here on the court.”

More bodies pressed closer to him, familiar comforting voices demanding what’s wrong.

Sakusa told them in a low voice, “Osamu and Kita are here. And Atsumu’s parents.”

A hushed “oooh,” then they all gathered together with his arms around each other. Pretending they were having a last-minute huddle. Instead of finishing warm ups.

“Listen, you shitty Atsumu,” Inunaki began. “We can’t have you having a meltdown right now. We fucking need you to be on the top of your game in this match alright? Everyone and their fucking grandmothers are here.”

Meian elbowed him. “What he means to say is we’re counting on you, and we got your back too Atsumu.”

Barnes said, “Remember what I said? We’re going to show them _all_ , Atsumu. Well, you are, because I’m benched.” He smiled genially.

Atsumu cracked a smile. Everyone sighed.

“I’m fine. Sorry, had a brief moment of panic back there. I’m good now.”

Bokuto yelled, “You got this Tsum-Tsum! You’re the best setter ever!”

“Yeah!” Hinata bounced on his feet. “And we’re going to do our quick right?”

Atsumu smiled bigger. “Hell yeah we are.”

“Do your hybrid,” Sakusa said suddenly.

“Well...I’ve been thinking about that but I haven’t tried it in any official match. You know I only get it half the time in practice.”

“If it flops, we’ll get the next point back,” Sakusa said, like he was talking about ordering pizza for dinner. “Kageyama Tobio is on the other side. You know, ranked number one in serving.”

Atsumu straightened up, breaking the huddle. He crossed his arms and pouted. “You just gotta bring that up? I’m ranked a pretty close second you know!”

“There was nothing close about that gap,” Sakusa told him flatly. “You have to show him up.”

“Fine, then I will!” He poked his tongue out at Sakusa.

Coach Foster reached them. “The hell is going on here? Why aren’t you warming up?”

Atsumu said definitively, “I’m going to do my hybrid, coach.”

Foster sized him up. “You’ve already made up your mind. Don’t fuck up too much.”

And then the whistle was blown and the match began.

When Hinata dug Kageyama’s first serve and Atsumu sent it back to him to let him make a good solid first impression, something in him settled. His toss was reliable as always, ball arching in a perfect pass, and Hinata blew the stadium away with his spike.

They got this.

Nothing else mattered. Not on this court.

\--

Atsumu flubs his first serve, of course. Naturally. Nevermind that it was just a jumper. The universe hates him.

Especially because it deemed that now was the time for Atsumu to be extremely aware of Sakusa Kiyoomi. His heart skipped a beat when the spiker performed a line shot that just bounced off Kageyama’s arms. He found it sexy when the arrogant jerk declared he was going to get the team’s first service ace of the day — and actually did.

He kept remembering the feeling of strong hands bracing his face. It kept him grounded.

The game was _fun_. It was intense, and grueling, and the pressure was nearly suffocating, but Atsumu _thrived_. 

When he hit Hinata’s emergency set and scored, he grinned in victory. When he successfully pulled off a settler dump, he laughed in delight. When he saved the ball after a let serve, allowing their team to score a point and win the first set, he cheered in relief.

_Are you watching Osamu? I’m having fun._

And then he was up to serve again. He did a mean jumper, then an unpredictable floater, which scored him his third service ace of the day. He’d gotten good and warmed up. He knew people were counting the steps he took as he positioned himself for another serve.

Four steps. They were expecting a jump serve. Time to switch things up. _Here I go._

His hybrid spun off Romero’s fingertips.

Confused, the crowd paused before they cheered.

He took position again. Closed a fist in view of the audience, stopping all noise. He served.

This time his hybrid outsmarted Hoshiumi. Another untouched service ace.

He laughed wildly, throwing his arms out, as the entire stadium exploded in cheers and screams. This was _his_ moment. His teammates screamed “Nice shot!” and he screamed “Hell yeah!” back at them victoriously.

_Are you watching, Kita? I don’t need you anymore._

The Adlers called a time out to slow Atsumu down. He reunited with his team by the bleachers and Bokuto hooked an arm around his neck and gave him a noogie. “Tsum-Tsum! You got it! Amazing!”

He batted off the hyperactive man and accepted the slaps on the back from his other teammates.

“Keep it up, Atsumu,” Coach Foster smiled at him proudly.

“Man, don’t jinx it coach, it’s all going too well for my comfort.”

As they waited for the time out to end, Atsumu smiled beatifically up at Sakusa. “I nailed my hybrid, Omi-Omi.”

Sakusa looked down at him with a tiny smile on his face. “I know. I was right there.”

Atsumu’s smile got bigger.

It felt like falling in love.

\--

Next time he was up to serve, he nailed a jump serve so perfect he kind of wanted to cry.

 _We don’t need memories_ , he thought. What matters is right now.

\--

They win the game.

It was Atsumu’s sweetest victory to date. There, on the court where only the best manage to stay, surrounded by the teammates that have turned into family, he never felt more satisfied and content.

Their spirits were high all the way until they all showered and headed back to the bus. The crowd had long since dispersed, fans filtering out after some autograph-signing and picture-taking. The grown ups, as Atsumu liked to call them in his head (but were really just Meian, Barnes, Thomas, and Inunaki), went ahead to check their bus to see if everything was settled.

Atsumu, Sakusa, Hinata, and Bokuto were taking their time as they walked and laughed, retelling their favorite parts of the match.

“Man, Romero’s serves, though,” Atsumu sighed. “I wanna be that good one day!”

“Romero is all force,” Sakusa said as he walked beside him. “You have three different kinds of serves at your disposal. I’d say you already surpassed him.”

Atsumu stopped and put his hand on his chest, moved. “Omi-kun!” he wailed.

“Oh, stop being dramatic.”

Bokuto began retelling Atsumu’s miraculous save that sent him rolling and crashing to a table at the edge of the court. They were laughing at him, and Atsumu couldn’t help but laugh too, even if it was at his expense. 

He was so distracted he didn’t immediately spot the four figures standing outside the gym until Hinata let out an “Eep!” and stopped walking, causing them all to halt.

Atsumu looked up and the smile slipped from his face.

He looked at his friends. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

Sakusa frowned. “We’ll wait there,” nodding to an area close by that would lead to where their bus was parked. A quick escape, if necessary.

Atsumu nodded and started dragging his feet towards his family and Kita, tucking his hands in his pockets.

Osamu looked at him. “Good game, Tsumu.” Then he grinned helplessly, proudly, like he couldn’t _not_. “Good fucking serve.”

Atsumu couldn’t help the proud little smile that tugged at his lips. He dipped his head in a nod. “It’s a new one I’ve been experimenting with. I haven’t been nailing it in practice, but it seemed like the right time to try it out.”

“Oh honey,” his mom said. “We’re so proud of you.” Then she placed her hands on his face, pulled him down to her height and kissed him on the forehead.

His father clapped him on the back. “That was some good volleyball, son.”

When they let go of him, Atsumu cleared his throat and swallowed. “Thanks for coming, I guess. Would’ve appreciated a heads up.”

Osamu sighed. “Like you would have answered.”

Here they fucking go.

“Tsumu,” his mother interrupted, before the tensions rose further. She rested a hand on his arm. “We were thinking of going to Tokyo, too. We wanted to take you out for dinner, all of us.”

“What for?”

“We just wanted to check in on you, see how you’ve been doing lately.”

This after four fucking years? “You don’t have to start caring about me now,” he said sourly. “What’s this really about?” Then for the first time, he turned his head and looked straight at Kita.

Kita seemed to lock in place at the weight of his gaze. “Ah — Atsumu.”

Atsumu nodded. “Kita-san. Are congratulations in order?”

They all exchanged glances.

Osamu said, “That’s what we wanted to discuss with you, during dinner, but...yeah.”

“You could have just said that.” Atsumu heaved a breath. “Congratulations then. I’m free for dinner tomorrow night.”

“Wonderful,” his father sighed. In relief it sounded like. “We’ll let you know where and what time.”

Atsumu nodded again. “Well — bye.”

When he turned on his heel he immediately spotted his friends, not a single one of them even pretending not to eavesdrop. What idiots. Atsumu started walking towards them, trying to ignore the weight of four pairs of eyes behind his back.

He walked away from the people he once called his family and didn’t look back.

\--

As he played his kalimba on his balcony that night, he thought of the way his mother said “We wanted to take you out” — like the four of them were a unit, and Atsumu was an outsider.

Like they accepted Kita as a member of their family, nevermind that he ripped the twins apart. Like everything Atsumu suffered all this time meant nothing to them.

Tears of anger, or betrayal, of four years of pain ran down his face silently. It made him angry that those people still had an effect on him, that they were still dragging him down effortlessly.

Then he breathed. Wiped his eyes. Played “Moon River” and thought of Sakusa and midnight conversations. He thought of the way Hinata said they were going to drag him out of his room if he didn’t show up for their beach trip, like they genuinely wanted him to be around despite all his mess. He thought of the way he walked, practically ran, towards them earlier that day after turning his back on his family.

Maybe he had managed to find a place to belong. It wasn’t in Hyogo. It was here in Tokyo. In the people he’s started to see as family. And if he ever got brave enough to reach for it, maybe it was in Sakusa Kiyoomi, too.

But first he needed to face his demons if he wanted to give them the best of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I...might have gotten carried away writing that match. Oops? (And can we all agree Sakusa was sexy af there? Like, canonically?)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trainwreck of a dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting not one, but two chapters today, because leaving it like this seemed too cruel lol. You ain't ready for this.
> 
> *cracks knuckles* here we go

His father sent him an address to an mid-scale family restaurant. After hemming and hawing, he decided to go for smart casual. He donned a simple white T-shirt, black skinny jeans, and his favorite white sneakers, finishing up the look with a thin gray blazer. Then he tousled up his hair with wax for a look he hoped to convey “Yeah I just rolled out of bed and I’m really this sexy and I totally didn’t overthink my outfit.”

Satisfied, he breathed deeply and took the short taxi ride to meet his family.

He spotted them on a corner table as he entered. His mom and dad sat beside each other on one side, his brother and Kita on the other. They haven’t seen him so he took the moment to study how they were with each other. Easy and familiar. Like they did this all the time. They probably did.

“Atsumu,” his mom said when he reached them. “You look well.”

He nodded and took a seat at the head of the table. Hot seat.

“We already ordered. We got some of your favorites.”

He nodded again.

And then there was awkward silence, no one knowing where to even begin.

“How have you been?” his father asked. He knew he was asking, _how have you been these past years?_

“Good.” Then he softened, because it was true. Lately, anyway. “I’ve been good. I have a good team.”

“You guys are all the internet has been talking about,” Osamu said conversationally. “Especially you and Sakusa. _Is_ there something going on?” Ah, so he’s seen the SakuAtsu thing after the video of Sakusa holding his face went viral.

He resisted the urge to hiss and bare his teeth and snap that it was none of his business, not anymore. Instead he said, vaguely, “Might be. Could be.”

“You should go for it,” his mom said. Too cheerfully.

“Why? So I can stop being your problem now?”

Silence. One could hear a pin drop.

Voice dark, Osamu said, “We just want you to be _fucking_ happy for once.”

“Right. Ignoring the fact that the reason I was unhappy was because of you guys.”

“How many times do I have to fucking _apologize_?” Osamu for once was the first to lose his cool.

Atsumu scoffed. “You apologized exactly once, four years after the fact. And keep your goddamn voice down, we’re in public. You want this plastered on the internet?” That would be a PR nightmare.

Osamu looked like he was a second away from tackling Atsumu. He kind of wanted to see that.

Then they froze when they heard a sob. Kita.

Kita was crying. The ever untouchable, almost unfeeling, ever rational _Kita_ was crying.

“Please stop,” Kita said.

Osamu stared at his boyfriend with wide eyes. Or fiance, rather. He could see the ring.

Kita met Atsumu’s gaze, his face tortured.

“This is all my fault.”

If he was looking for mercy, he wasn’t going to get any from Atsumu.

“Yes.” He shrugged.

“I’m so sorry, Atsumu. I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t mean to. I loved you. I did.”

“That means nothing to me anymore.”

Kita continued, “I almost said no, when Osamu proposed. Because all I could think about was I ruined a very special bond that wasn’t meant to ever break, and that it was still broken. That I broke your heart when you did nothing wrong. It wasn’t fair that I got to be happy after that.”

“Guess your conscience didn’t hold up for too long, though.”

Osamu shot him a deadly glare and opened his mouth.

He was interrupted by the arrival of the food.

They waited in tense silence as the waiters served them, the tension just growing the longer it went.

When it was safe to talk, he casually asked, “So, when’s the wedding?”

Kita flinched.

Osamu stared at him hatefully.

“Next spring,” his mother said finally.

“Hmm.” He picked up his glass of water. “You always did like that season, Kita.”

Kita started sobbing again. “I’m sorry, Atsumu.”

Atsumu sighed and pressed fingers on his throbbing temple. Eyes closed he said, “It wasn’t that you cheated on me, Kita. It was that you cheated on me with Osamu. You could have picked literally anybody else, and the damage I would have suffered would have been 90 fucking percent less.”

He opened his eyes and stared back at Kita intently. “Do you know what it did to me, seeing the two people I loved and trusted most in the world like that? How long was it going on before I found out? Nevermind, don’t answer that, I don’t want to know. I just want to forget about it. God,” he laughed suddenly, a little hysterically. “You don’t even know how much I want to _forget_ about it! Do you even have any idea how much I fucking pray that I would just wake up one day and have fucking _amnesia_? You think I _enjoy_ being in pain?”

Kita dropped his eyes. Nobody could look at him. His temper flared.

“What? Cat got your tongue? And what about you, Mom, Dad? Did you ever consider how I would feel, seeing the four of you acting like a picture perfect family at _my_ game, when you never even bothered trying to visit me in four _goddamn_ years?”

“You barely wanted to talk to us!” his mother hissed. “Life doesn’t just stop when you leave, Tusumu.”

That was true enough. Still, it hurt. “I never expected it to,” he said quietly. “Guess I just thought I’d have meant more to you. Whatever. I’m used to it.”

He’s been here all of ten minutes and he was ready to leave. This was hopeless. This much hurt won’t go away just like that — he thinks maybe it just got worse. He pulled out his phone and texted an SOS along with the restaurant name.

Minutes passed where they all just stared at the food or off in space. No one knew what to say.

It was his father who tried next.

“I’m sorry, Atsumu,” he said finally. “We’re sorry. We didn’t know how to handle it. What in the world were we supposed to do when our twins just totally broke apart like that? And you just stonewalled the moment you left Hyogo. Every rare conversation with you was like a landmine.”

“So it’s my fault.”

His father’s voice turned firm. “Communication is a two-way street. You could have tried harder.”

Maybe. “I didn’t feel like any of you fucking tried at all.”

“I called,” Osamu snapped. Then he sighed sharply, like he was frustrated at himself. ”Believe it or not, I never meant to _hurt_ you, Tsumu. And I was — I was ashamed, alright? I didn’t know how to face you! You never,” his voice broke. “You never separated from me that far before.”

This was true. Even when they were fighting they stayed within each other’s reach, sometimes right beside each other as they waited for their anger to pass. And neither of them ever had to say sorry, because it always went unspoken. Things used to be so easy.

“You never hurt me that bad before.”

“I’m _sorry_.” Osamu had tears in his eyes now. He looked angry, frustrated. “I don’t know what else to _say_. I want us to be brothers again, Tsumu. I fucking miss you, alright?”

The sight of Osamu suffering didn’t make him feel better. Seeing everyone on the table in various states of heartbreak didn’t satisfy him. Instead, his chest felt like it was throbbing in pain. They were all suffering from this. But he didn’t know how to stop the hurt, didn’t even know where to start.

A few more moments of painful silence.

“I don’t know how to forgive you,” he finally choked out. It wasn’t said in anger, but helplessness.

Everyone was crying now. Atsumu would have given anything for someone to take him away that very instant.

Then someone did.

“Atsumu.”

Five pairs of wet eyes swiveled up to regard Sakusa Kiyoomi in shock. Right. He texted.

Sakusa leaned one hand on the table, and one hand on the back of Atsumu’s chair. Shielding him?

“People are starting to stare. I need you to get it together.”

Atsumu stared up at him. His voice was his usual no-nonsense tone, his face impassive as ever. It was calming. Like no matter how impossible the situation seemed to be, he’s unfazed; he’s got it handled, because he’s Sakusa Kiyoomi. Dependable, consistent, ever reliable Sakusa Kiyoomi.

Then their surprise guest looked over at the table. “We’re leaving. You can try your hand at another failed apology some other day.” Forever blunt, borderline rude, totally unsocial Sakusa Kiyoomi. God, he loved him.

Wait, what?

Sakusa looked down at him again, something in his dark eyes softening. He slipped a hand in his pocket and took out a handkerchief. Then he pressed it against Atsumu’s face. “Can’t take you anywhere.”

He was teasing, in his own off-beat way. Atsumu wanted to laugh. Sakusa was so bad at this, but he wouldn’t have anyone else here right now. “Shut up, Omi.” He mopped at his cheeks.

“Now, wait a minute —” his mother began.

“Listen, lady, I understand this is a family affair, but I’d prefer it if you stopped pushing him to extremes. He’s had enough for tonight. Try again tomorrow.”

He thought they were going to fight Sakusa for his sheer audacity, but his mother surprised him. “Alright. We’ll try again tomorrow.” She faced Atsumu with a look of determination. “We’ll stay in Tokyo for a bit. We won’t leave until you agree to try and fix this with us. Alright? This family has been broken for far too long already.”

“That’s a lot of crap we’re going to have to fix.”

His mother laid a trembling hand over his. She whispered, "We'll take it slow. We'll try, Atsumu, we promise we'll really try. You're still part of this family. We’re sorry. We didn’t handle anything about what happened well."

Atsumu slipped his hand out of her grip gently. He was conflicted. Too many emotions were wrestling inside him, and the throbbing in his temple seems to have evolved into a full blown headache. Crying always does that to him.

Just letting everything go felt like giving up. But holding on to it was dragging him down. How do you forgive the people who were supposed to love you when they were the ones who hurt you the most?

Sakusa leaned down and gripped his wrist. “He’ll sleep on it. Let’s go, Atsumu.”

He obediently let himself be led away, relieved he can stop thinking for a while. The cold night air outside was a welcome sensation. Soothing.

They took another cab home, because Atsumu wasn’t in a state to commute. The moment the car took off, Atsumu planted his face in Sakusa’s chest and cried. He half-expected Sakusa to shove him away, so he was surprised to feel fingers on the back of his head, offering silent comfort.

He cried harder.

By the time they reached their apartment, his sobs had been reduced to the occasional hitching of breath.

Sakusa led him to his unit by the shoulder. Atsumu caught his reflection in the elevator and was silently horrified at how red and puffy his face was.

When they reached Atsumu’s door, he unlocked it and was surprised when Sakusa followed him in.

Unsure, Atsumu said, “I’m going to take a shower.” Sakusa nodded and let him get to it.

He felt better as soon as the hot water hit him. He shampooed the wax off his hair, and scrubbed away the ugly feeling that latched itself on him the moment he saw his family and Kita in the restaurant. He was home now. And Sakusa was outside.

The thought brought him great comfort.

When he got out of the shower, Sakusa was lounging on his bed, still in his jeans and black sweater, fiddling with his kalimba. He was hit with a wave of fondness.

Now squeaky clean and feeling comfy in his pajamas, Atsumu could feel the emotional rollercoaster begin to take its toll on him.

He crawled on his bed and curled up near Sakusa.

“Thanks for comin’ to get me,” he mumbled tiredly.

“Anyone on the team would have gone.”

Atsumu smiled. “Yeah.”

Sakusa shifted awkwardly. “It’s — going to be alright, Atsumu.”

He really was bad at this. “I don’t know. Thought time was s’posed to heal all wounds and shit. I’ve been waiting for years but clearly the wound hasn’t healed at all.”

“You can’t heal if you don’t take out the splinters.”

Atsumu glanced up at Sakusa, lips parted.

“What?” Sakusa rolled his eyes at him from where his head was resting on the pillow, turned towards him. “It’s common sense. But you can be excused from not seeing it.”

“Huh.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m not saying nothin’!”

They settled in and spoke no more. Atsumu didn’t question why Sakusa was here, and why he didn’t look like he planned on leaving. If he addressed it, he might just spook the other man away. Atsumu didn’t really know what he wanted at this point in time, but he knew he didn’t want that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, everyone had lots of repressed feelings and they didn't know where to start. But just what did they expect, cornering him like that? Sorry, friends, forgiveness and healing won’t happen after one dinner. But we’re close!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Osamu finally spills the whole story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, I'm posting two chapters today. Prepare your tissues!

Atsumu jerked awake, but didn’t know what woke him. Beside him, Sakusa slept peacefully, still in those damn jeans. There was no nightmare, no loud sound. He was just suddenly awake.

He checked the time. 3:30 a.m.

Figures.

In a trance, he picked up his phone and silently made his way out to his balcony.

He had changed his number when he left Hyogo, sick of rejecting Osamu’s calls, ashamed when their mutual friends and old teammates started to message asking, _Why? What just happened?_

But he knew his twin’s number like the back of his hand even after all this time.

The phone rang once, then stopped as the call connected. There was no sound in the other line.

“I just woke up for no reason,” Atsumu said finally.

Osamu replied, “I woke up about 10 minutes ago. Nightmare.”

Atsumu wondered if Osamu was also in the balcony of his apartment. It wouldn’t surprise him if they were in parallel, staring at the same sky.

“Why did you do it?” he asked quietly. _I’m ready to hear it now_ , he didn’t say. He didn’t have to.

There was a sigh and some shuffling on the other side before Osamu settled.

“There is nothing that could excuse what I did. I fucked up. We fucked up. But…” he trailed off.

“But?” he prompted softly.

“You know, you would always whine about me being the favorite twin. Because I was nicer, or whatever. I guess you were right, people always generally liked me more because I’m more approachable. But what you don’t always see is how people would just stare you in amazement. Like they couldn’t help it, no matter how much of a cocky prick you were, or how much they disliked you. You were still something to fucking admire. And I could never blame them.

“Shinsuke looked at you like that. I liked him too, you know. But when you said you were going for him, I knew I didn’t stand a chance. So I told you to go for it and I decided to back off, alright? I did. But then you —” Osamu made a short sound of frustration.

“But then you had all these opportunities. You were chosen for the All-Japan Youth Camp. You were going to go pro. You already had scouts waiting on you. And I...didn’t. All I could think about was that I had to get out from under your shadow. And I did want to get into food retail, so I decided to just start my own path, from scratch. Volleyball wasn’t do or die for me, not like it is with you. You already had your whole life ahead of you. You were going to leave me behind. And you were going to leave Kita behind."

“I wasn’t —”

“No, just listen, alright? I’m not repeating this shit. When we graduated, we all knew that you were leaving to chase off some impossible dream. Impossible for us, anyway. You were always meant to reach greater heights. And we were _heartbroken_ about that, okay? Because we couldn’t keep up with you on this journey, no matter how much you wanted to tug us along. So while you were busy with trying to plot out your future, I guess Kita and I sort of mourned over the impending changes together.

“I swear, we didn’t mean anything by it. He was always at home to visit you, but you were always busy those days, meeting with scouts and stuff. Before I knew it, I suddenly had fucking feelings for him and it was horrible because I knew he was yours. But when you decided to sign with the Black Jackals, who were based in _Tokyo_ , well. I told Kita when he visited and he was upset, and I was upset, and one thing led to another and…

“And then you caught us. That was just the fucking first time, alright? We weren’t sneaking behind your back or anything. It just…”

“Happened?” he croaked out.

“Yeah. Fuck. It just happened. I’m sorry, Tsumu. I’m sorry.” Osamu sounded choked up. “I felt so shitty about it that I avoided him like the plague for _months._ We didn’t get together just like that, like what you were probably thinking. And I would call you every night, but I figured you changed your number and our parents wouldn’t give them to me, because they said I had to earn it. They were really angry at me, Tsumu. Mom was always screaming or crying. Dad looked like he didn’t know who to punch.

“Mom told me where you were living in Tokyo, but I couldn’t, I just couldn’t. I couldn’t bear to see the damage. That was the worst thing I’ve ever done. And then I’d watch all your matches and interviews, and you looked _fine_. Glowing, even. Fuck. Like you were always meant to be living your life separate from me, _ahead_ of me. So I thought, I won’t ruin it by bringing up what he left behind. And time eventually let me make up with Mom and Dad and Kita. It took a long while, but we were all grieving over losing you, so it just...happened.”

“So why did you come visit me that day in the gym? When you already decided that you’ll leave me alone?”

“Because,” Osamu sounded like he was going to say something he knew would be upsetting, but he had to say it anyway. “I didn’t want to get married without my best man.”

Atsumu slid down the wall, one hand clutching his mouth to muffle his sobs.

“I’m sorry. I was being selfish at the time. It just didn’t feel right taking this huge step without you.” Osamu sounded miserable. “And I’ve been fucking up every attempt at an apology because, fuck, you get me so worked up even after all this time. All the things I wanted to say just...I just, I’ve done everything all wrong. But, shit. Tsumu. I really fucking miss you. I’m sorry. I don’t know how many times I have to say it. Just throw me a bone here.”

They were silent for a while, as Atsumu cried.

“Atsumu. Don’t you think it’s time to fix this? I’m willing to try anything. Shit. Watching you during that Miyagi match was...well, it was brilliant, I was cheering for you like a madman, you know? But it was also fucking torture because I kept thinking that you grew up without me, Tsumu. In another universe, you would have been updating me every day about that new serve. But in this timeline, I had to see it for the first time along with the world.”

Atsumu sobbed. Everything hurt like hell. Sakusa didn’t tell him how painful it would be to remove the splinters.

“I do want to fix it,” Atsumu finally said miserably. “I hate feeling this shitty. I tried forgetting about it but it just won’t go away. I don’t know how to forget about the past four years, Samu.”

“You’re not supposed to forget it. No one’s asking that of you. We definitely haven’t forgotten it. We’re just asking that you stop running from it. From us. I know it’s a lot to ask, but please let me back in, Tsumu.”

“I’m trying,” he ground out. “It’s not going to be fucking easy, Osamu.”

“I know. I’m prepared to handle it,” he assured. “I had a lifetime of practice handling you, in case you forgot.”

“Unfortunately, the gods never granted my prayers to have amnesia.”

A beat, then miraculously, they both laughed. Their laughter sounded hysterical and wet with tears but it was genuine enough.

After a while, Atsumu sniffled. “I missed you too, Samu. A lot.”

Osamu laughter transitioned into painful-sounding sobs.

“Jeez. Stop crying. Fucking baby.”

Once they were calm, Atsumu began, “My new serve...I saw Orlov do it and I thought it was cool. I just had to try it.”

In the quiet of the morning, it seemed easy to start unchaining the part of Atsumu that kept holding on to the messy past. As if in a trance, they slipped back into the ease of their old conversations.

Atsumu idly told him about failing to keep it in bounds during practices. Osamu cautiously told him about how Kita entered agriculture, and now manages his own farm. He supplies the rice for Onigiri Miya. During harvest, he goes to the field and helps his people out.

The thought of them working as partners didn’t hurt as much anymore.

Atsumu told him about his teammates, how they haven’t always been friends, but they were like family now. He told him about Bokuto’s pranks, Hinata’s jump, and Sakusa’s fastidious tendencies. How it was Sakusa who convinced him to debut the hybrid during the game.

“You _do_ like him,” Osamu said.

“I...maybe.”

“I have no right to say it because I was probably the one to traumatize you but...I saw the way he looked at you last night in the restaurant. He ain’t going anywhere, Tsumu.”

Atsumu huffed. “Then maybe he can wait until I’m ready.”

“When you serve, do you wait until you’re ready, or you just do it because you’ll never be ready and there’s no better time?”

Atsumu stared wide-eyed at the starry sky. The words struck right through the clutter in his brain.

“Huh.” That was the second bit of wisdom he received in two days.

“Besides, everyone knows about his weird aversion to people and germs and stuff, so if he’s touching you, he must really like you. Plus that time he was holding your face...gross. Don’t know what he sees in you.”

“Shut up! I’ll have you know we had some moments.” 

“Like what?”

He whispered, “I played kalimba for him at the beach one night and he didn’t even make fun of me.”

“This the beach trip where you got plastered and were puking all over the place?” Fucking Bokuto. “Wait, kalimba?”

Perking up, he said, “I’ll show ya. Facetime?”

It was well past 4 a.m. now. There was no point in sleeping.

Atsumu sneaked back into his room and picked up the kalimba from the bedside table. Sakusa was still sleeping. He was beautiful.

He and Osamu Facetimed. With amusement, he noticed that Osamu _was_ on his balcony too. Both their eyes were swollen, but bright.

After some fumbling with the camera, Atsumu played “Love Theme” from Cinema Paradiso, one of his favorites.

He played song after song, until the sun rose in the horizon.

The road ahead was long, but it was a new day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaand that was just the start. We get some more heartbreaking conversations in the next chapter. Toodles!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The twins bond the best way they know how.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed my mind, I'm posting three chapters!

Atsumu ended up ghosting his family for the better part of a week after that disastrous dinner. He told himself he needed to recover from that emotionally draining exertion and ignored the voice in his head telling him that he was being a coward.

But deep inside, he knew he wanted to see how long they’d wait for him, and if they really meant it when they said they’d try to fix things.

And then, when the following weekend came, he mustered up the courage to text Osamu and invite him to play some volleyball.

If he was going to try to forgive them all, he has to start with the person who had inflicted the deepest and most lasting wound.

The Black Jackals had practice, of course, as they had another match the following week, so Atsumu told Osamu he could watch, then they could hit some balls after.

Feeling the weight of his brother’s stare on him didn’t do Atsumu any favors. He was anxious, distracted, and tense — when a ball hit him right on the face, it was as good a wake up call as any.

The whistle blew, and Coach Foster called him over.

“Wanna tell me what’s wrong with you, Miya?”

He twitched once more at the name. “Sorry, coach. Just some...family drama that I’m trying to work through.” He watched the man’s eyes trail past him and into the direction of the bleachers. Atsumu said hurriedly, “I’m good. That ball to the face woke me up. I apologize for my behavior.”

Foster rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Go practice your serves in the other court.” He raised his voice, “Sakusa, other court. Practice your serve receives with Atsumu-kun.”

Atsumu reluctantly walked over to where Sakusa was standing and waiting for him.

“Sorry, Omi-Omi,” he said dejectedly. He didn’t meet the intense gaze that Sakusa was leveling him with.

Sakusa didn’t speak, just led the way to the other court, dragging a basket of volleyballs with him. But before they could separate to opposite sides, Sakusa suddenly touched Atsumu’s cheek, which was no doubt red from the impact of the ball.

“That was hilarious,” Sakusa said unexpectedly.

Atsumu’s eyes flicked up to meet Sakusa’s amused ones. “Omiii,” he whined. Then he said, “Ow,” when Sakusa pressed down on the sore spot.

“Wake up, idiot,” Sakusa said. “I said they don’t matter on the court, remember?”

Atsumu smiled a little. “Right.”

Mood lifted, he practiced his serves, taking an unholy delight when the trajectory would confuse even Sakusa frickin’ Kiyoomi.

When he got Sakusa down on his knees, ball bouncing harmlessly beside him, Atsumu cackled. “Losing your touch, Omi-Omi?” he called out. “I’m getting more serves in than you’re getting them up!”

Sakusa shot him a dark glare. “Again,” he snapped.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Bokuto yelled, barreling towards them. “Coach said we can join!”

“They’ve effectively been distracted,” Meian sighed, approaching more languidly.

And then the rest of the team started taking their turns by threes to attempt bumping Atsumu’s serves, their competitiveness once again taking over.

By the time they were all dismissed from practice, Atsumu had almost forgotten that his twin was waiting for him in the bleachers. But he’s been successfully shaken from his strange mood, and he felt steady enough to walk over to the bleachers and face Osamu.

His twin descended the bleachers, already wearing casual sports attire. “That new serve is trickier up close. Very nice.”

“Cool, huh? Think you can keep up with me?” He smirked.

Osamu narrowed his eyes. He was still as competitive as him, it seemed. “One way to find out.” he took off his jacket and dropped it on the bleachers.

As the court cleared and his teammates trooped to the locker room, he led Osamu to the court he was practicing in. A ball boy was dumping balls in the basket, and Atsumu asked him if he would mind staying and tossing balls to him for a while.

The ball boy enthusiastically agreed, muttering something about the Miya Twins in action, finally. And after Osamu stretched and warmed up for a while, they got started.

It was the first time he was setting for Osamu in years. But the familiar movements came to him like the lyrics to his oldest favorite song that he just heard again.

When the ball slammed home in the opposite court they stared at each other in worldless surprise.

“Well,” Atsumu finally said. “Looks like you still got it.”

Osamu grinned at him, looking unburdened for the first time since Atsumu has seen him again. Like they were 17 again and practicing their quick in the Inarizaki gym.

“Like riding a bike, huh?” Osamu said.

It felt exactly like that.

They didn’t talk as they did their old dance of tossing and spiking, movements only getting faster and faster the longer they went, like they were fine tuning with every try.

Eventually, his gossipy teammates couldn’t bear to merely spy on them anymore and they gradually edged closer and closer to the court, until Atsumu said, exasperated, “Just get over here, you numbskulls.”

They decided to do three-on-three, with Atsumu, Osamu, and Inunaki on one side, Hinata, Bokuto, and Sakusa on the other.

“Where do they get the energy?” he heard Meian ask Barnes.

Adriah, who was filming, said, “I’m just here for the clout.”

Excitement and anticipation filled the gym. Three from the “monster generation” made up one team, but in the other were the Jackals’ first-string libero and the once famous Miya Twins.

“Don’t embarrass me, Samu,” he told his twin. “They’re here to see if we can hold a candle to them.”

“Don’t worry,” Osamu said. “It’s not like I completely let go of volleyball. I still play every once in a while, just casually though.” This wasn’t a surprise to Atsumu. He couldn’t imagine just dropping the sport.

Osamu added, “Besides. We played together much longer than these kids have been in your team.”

Atsumu smirked. He was starting to get hyped up.

Meian signalled the start of the game and then they were moving.

It should be a no brainer. Statistically, the better team with the better players would win — in this case, it would be the one with the Sakusa, who had the nastiest spins; Hinata who had the most impossible jumps; and Bokuto, who had the most powerful spikes.

But months of syncing up with the three men against him gave Atsumu an intimate knowledge of how their minds and bodies worked — on top of the fact that none of them have gone against him and Osamu in years, and never in this kind of capacity. And Hinata may have learned to set, but he never put his whole focus on learning to give the best toss for each hitter, not like Atsumu had.

And Atsumu’s first ever hitter was standing by his side. His spiker since he was 8 years old until he was 18. Ten years worth of volleyball experience together. And a lifetime of memories he had at some point repressed, but were impossible to truly forget.

When Atsumu’s team caught up to the other and tied at 14 points, it stopped being fun and games. Atsumu saw Sakusa narrow his eyes and he grinned evilly back.

It was Sakusa’s serve next and it was a precise, targeted let serve, meant to take Atsumu out (and damn if he didn’t find that sexy). Atsumu stumbled to keep the ball alive, and by some miracle Inunaki bumped it and Osamu passed it over the net. It was too easy a hit for Sakusa to receive — they were able to make a set out of it, Bokuto performing a deadly cross shot that had Atsumu staggering back as he bumped it.

 _Damn it_ , the thought. _They’re trying to make sure I can’t toss. If they take me out, they win._

When Bokuto’s next cross shot glanced past Osamu’s fingers as he blocked it, the ball was sent in a wide arc to the side, out of the court. Atsumu ran to save it, realizing that he was out of the play again — but the ball was still alive and that’s what mattered.

And then Bokuto was gearing up for his third cross shot, but Atsumu saw it coming a mile away — he always did tend to repeat his tricks when he was feeling them. Atsumu started to run back towards the net just as the other man jumped and Atsumu leaped from outside the court to the net a second later, blocking the spike with one hand.

The ball slammed into the opposite court decisively, just as Atsumu landed on both feet.

There was a beat of shocked silence before everyone started yelling in both anger and excitement and he could only laugh in his own amazement.

“One more point,” Osamu grinned at him.

“We totally got this,” he grinned back.

It was Atsumu’s serve next. He could end this with his hybrid, he knew, but what was the fun in that? He found himself wanting to stretch this match for as long as he is able.

He settled with a jump serve that only had 60 percent of his power, enough to make them struggle, but not enough for a service ace. With the pressure in the court on an all-time high, each athlete started moving faster, sharper.

And then Osamu’s spike tripped over the net, making people gasp, but Hinata of course managed to get under it, the ball bouncing against the net on its way up. Sakusa jerked forward to bump it up high, crashing down into one knee. But the clumsy pass was enough for Bokuto to slam down a line shot.

Inunaki — good old Inunaki — managed a miraculous save, tumbling over his head from the momentum. It was too low, with an ugly trajectory, in every way a messy pass. The right thing to do was to just dig it with an underhand pass, but when did Atsumu ever settle for that? For a split second as he slid under the ball, his eyes flicked to his twin, and he remembered a moment in Nationals when they first encountered Hinata and Kageyama. When it really mattered back then, they weren’t able to follow through with this, but…

But Atsumu has improved a lot since then. And he still knew his twin’s exact spike point.

Minus tempo attack. No one saw it coming.

Silence rang when Osamu slammed the ball home.

And then an explosion of sound.

“That quick again!” Hinata shrieked.”You quick stealer!”

“Holy shit, holy shit, that was so cool!” Bokuto was yelling.

“Goddamn, my back,” Inunaki said.

But Atsumu was barely paying attention to them, because in a move borne of habit, he slapped both hands down on his twin’s in celebration, eyes wide in amazement and mouth stretched wide into a grin.

“Holy shit, Samu, we still got it!”

“I can’t believe we pulled that off, Tsumu!”

“What is wrong with you twins,” Inunaki said grumpily. “If you hadn’t pulled that off, they could’ve taken the set and ran.”

They both said, “But we knew we could.”

Then they glanced at each other, amused.

And then heavy hands landed on each of their shoulder.

“That was really something,” Meian said. “This was the first time I ever saw you two play together, and I see the hype now.”

“I am totally going to post this on all my accounts,” Adriah said.

They trooped to the locker rooms so they could shower and change. When they got there, everyone pretended to forget that Atsumu and Osamu had a fight there months ago.

Looking back, Atsumu thinks he’s come pretty far since then.

Later, they all walked back towards the Black Jackals’ apartment complex, Atsumu and Osamu trailing behind, keeping pace with each other.

“So,” Osamu said.

“So,” Atsumu replied, suddenly on edge. The adrenaline has passed, making him aware that his feelings were still unresolved and scattered all over the place.

“That was fun. I haven’t had that much fun in — in a while,” Osamu said.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Like four years.”

Atsumu’s throat tightened.

“It was never the same without you. Volleyball was never the same without you.”

Atsumu blinked hard.

“But you know what, I have many regrets in life, but quitting isn’t one of them. I really enjoy what I do. What I create.”

Atsumu nodded. Osamu always loved food.

“And...I’ll always regret hurting you, and losing you for the past four years. But...I’ve been thinking and maybe it had to happen. Us to separate, I mean. In losing you, I found me. I’m just sorry that I had to hurt you and so many people in the process.”

Osamu stopped in his tracks, making Atsumu stop reluctantly too. He turned to face his twin, but didn’t dare meet his eyes.

Then Osamu whispered, “And I’m sorry I couldn’t stop loving Kita. I know you’ve probably moved on from him, but you couldn’t move on from what _I did_ , and if I could — if I could, I’d give him up, so it’s not this — knife hanging over us. Loving him hasn’t exactly been the most pleasant experience because we’re forever tainted, but I can’t stop, Tsumu.” He sounded desperate. “For all that I love you, I love him too and I’m just asking — begging — that you don’t make me choose. I know I said I’m willing to try anything to fix this, but...please.”

Eyes wet, Atsumu glared at his twin, whose own eyes were teary. He kept his voice low so as not to alert his teammates, but the silence was quite telling.

“What kind of person do you think I am, that I’d ask that from you?” He scoffed and looked away. After a second he said, tiredly, “You two make more sense than we ever did. And if not even me can keep you two apart, then nothing will. And one day,” Atsumu briefly closed his eyes, then sighed. He met Osamu’s gaze. “One day I’ll be able to smile at the fact that the two people I once knew so well... and loved so well...found happiness in each other. Today is not that day, but...I can sincerely say, go the fuck ahead, alright? Marry him. It’s fine. I’m _fine_.”

“But will we be fine?” There were tears running down Osamu’s cheeks now, and they were setting Atsumu off. He wiped angrily at his own cheek.

“Give me some fucking time, Samu. I’m trying, okay? It’s not easy. It wasn’t easy four years ago and it’s not easy now. I’m so sick and tired of _being like this_. I’m done fighting, I give up, I’m waving the white flag, okay? But...maybe you needed time and distance to recover from being _my twin_ , but I spent all this time in grief because _I lost mine_. And you will never understand the torment I’ve gone through, unable to sleep because I keep wondering what I did wrong, trying to figure out which mistake was the last straw that made everyone I care about stop loving me, wanting to call you but remembering that it was you who ruined _everything_.”

Atsumu took a deep breath and released it slowly. “I’ve been picking up the pieces these past four years, and finally I can say that I’m getting better. Humpty Dumpty putting himself back together again, and all. But I need you to be fucking patient, because I am honestly trying my goddamn best here. I know that means nothing to you, but it means _everything_ to me.”

Osamu stared at him, looking like someone was steadily treading on his foot. “Okay,” he finally whispered. “I’ll wait. And you’re wrong. It means something to me. It means a lot to me that you’re trying, Tsumu.” Then he stepped forward, and before Atsumu could do anything, pulled him into a hug.

Atsumu tensed and didn’t move.

“I should have gone to you in Tokyo. I shouldn’t have been a coward. It took four years, but I’m here. And I’ll wait. I promise. I won’t leave you alone.”

Atsumu raised a hand, and after a few moments of hesitation, laid it on Osamu’s back.

The touch was all Osamu needed to tighten his arms around him and start sobbing against his neck. Atsumu lost the battle with his own tears, and they started streaming down his cheeks silently as he watched the trees sway from over Osamu’s shoulder.

He didn’t remove his hand, and he didn’t pull away.

\--

Later, they did the mortifying walk of shame to Atsumu’s waiting teammates who made a valiant effort not to look at them as if they weren’t hopeless gossips. Except Bokuto and Hinata, who were openly crying, leaning against each other. Atsumu rolled his eyes.

Sakusa dabbed harshly at Atsumu’s face with his ever present handkerchief. “You’re such a mess. You know how many times I’ve seen you cry like a baby these past few weeks?”

“Shut up,” he ground out.

Osamu walked them to their apartment complex, then went his separate way. But not before saying, “Answer Mom and Dad’s calls, will ya?”

Atsumu groaned.

He was far from done. But for once, he thinks he’s ready.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys have no idea how many packets of tissues I emptied writing the past three chapters. It was ridiculous.
> 
> I want you all to know that I love Osamu and I adore the twins' bond in the manga. Still, it leaves so many possibilities...


	9. Four months later

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yup, that's a time skip. Sorry, but there's nothing else other than time that could fix things now that the healing process has finally started!

Miya Atsumu was happy.

The MSBY Black Jackals were about to face off with the Schweiden Alders for the last time this season, and whoever emerged the victor will be this year’s champions. The Adlers had defended the crown these past years, but Atsumu knew they could drag it back from their stiff fingers.

The match is in Tokyo this time. Onigiri Miya had a stall there again, but Osamu said he’d let his staff man it so he could watch with their parents in the stands. Atsumu gave them front row seats. Even Kita.

A few days after talking — and playing — it out with Osamu, he met up with his parents, in a quieter restaurant. He told them how scared he was back then, thinking they’d side with Osamu, how it angered him wherever they'd bring him up, how betrayed he felt seeing them again with Kita, like his feelings didn’t matter to them at all.

He told them the truth of how he struggled, how alone he’d been until his teammates managed to get him to open up, how he missed Osamu but hated him too, how he wished he never had a twin because a lot of his problems would probably be non-existent.

His mother had dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. “I’m sorry, Atsumu. Just — you seemed so _fine_. You were always the more emotional twin, but also the more headstrong. We never had to worry too much about you, we always knew you’d be just fine. And we saw how Osamu completely broke down, and we just — I don’t know. Felt like he needed us more, maybe. And that was wrong of us.”

“You know, we’d all watch your games together,” his father said. “And we’d all cheer for you. You looked so at home in the court, and you looked happy. I figured, if you were doing so well...that you didn’t need us anymore. And you never came back to us either.”

Atsumu swallowed the lump in his throat. “But I did need you. I just didn’t think there was anything to come back to.”

And finally, Atsumu talked to Kita, alone and in person.

This time there were no tears, and no mean words from Atsumu. After making the decision to try to forgive his brother, the rest came easier.

“I wasn’t the one you needed, and I knew it even then,” Kita had smiled sadly. “But I should have talked to you instead of bottling it in. That exploded in our faces in the worst way possible.”

“Are you happy?” Atsumu wanted to know.

Kita’s smile brightened. “Yes. I am. We are. Especially now that you’ve made up with Samu...I’ve never seen him happier. Like a huge load was taken off him.”

“I forgive you too, Kita. It’s...I’m not gonna lie, the whole thing nearly destroyed me but.” He sighed. “I can’t let this drag me down anymore. It’s fucking annoying.”

Tears were in Kita’s eyes again. “Atsumu..thank you.” He sniffled. “These past years, we felt so...It’s a complicated kind of love between me and Osamu. Something we had to bear.” He shook his head. “But that’s our problem. Now, listen. I was never going to be able to keep up with you. But if I’m not mistaken, there’s someone who can. Who does.”

Atsumu stared at him wide-eyed.

“Running away and hiding isn’t like you, Tsumu. You always went after what you want with relentless passion. I saw how you looked at him. You shouldn’t let what happened with us hold you back. I would feel...extremely crappy if we made you even more unhappy.”

In a few moments they were going to walk out into the stadium. From their spot in the tunnel leading out the court, he could hear announcements over the speakers and the loud cheers from the unprecedentedly large crowd.

But all he could look at was Sakusa. Because now that he’s making an effort to let go of the past, it was as if he could see clearer. He felt lighter, surer.

He felt more like himself than he’s ever been before. Like all the scars he’d amassed, tiny and large, have finally settled into his skin, and he was proud to bear them.

Sakusa was staring into the court in concentration, mindlessly stretching his wrists.

Is there any better time than now?

Atsumu stalked closer to him, not stopping even when Sakusa looked at him quizzically, or even when Sakusa stumbled back into the wall. He pressed his body against his.

“We’re going to win,” Atsumu said intently.

Sakusa stared at him. Slowly, he said, “Yes.”

“And then we’re going to go on a date.”

Dark eyes widened imperceptibly. Then. “Yes.”

That was all Atsumu needed. He reached up, gripped Sakusa’s shoulders, and dragged him down into a kiss. Sakusa kissed back like he was drowning and Atsumu was oxygen, his hands coming up to grip Atsumu’s waist.

Somewhere in the mess that was his brain, Atsumu picked out a thought: _Finally._ Then, _I think I could want this for the rest of my life._

When the speakers announced that they were introducing the Adlers that Atsumu pulled away.

“Later,” he panted.

Flushed, Sakusa could only say “Yes” again. It was all Atsumu could do to stop himself from kissing him again. It felt like the start of an addiction.

Mustering as much strength as he could manage, Atsumu stepped away from Sakusa. Then he faced his team, who were rendered silent and somewhat horrified.

“We’re in love,” Atsumu announced.

“Well, we knew that,” Meian said.

Bokuto’s eyes were wide. “Who knew that? Were we supposed to know that? Holy crap!”

Hinata looked like he was going to faint, hand on a wall keeping him upright. Inunaki had his hands over his mouth.

Then they had to go.

When Coach Foster met them out in the court after they were all announced, he took one look at their faces, some pale, some red, and said, “I don’t want to know. Just go out there and play good volleyball.”

And they did.

\--

They never played better.

Sakusa was on fire. He tooled block after block, and his serves spun off anyone who tried to receive them, until they had to delegate Ushijima Wakatoshi to receive it. He was magnificent to watch.

His unflagging drive infected the whole team as they did the familiar dance of passing and spiking the ball. The pressure was stifling. They all _thrived_.

And then it was time for Atsumu to serve. He counted four steps and the crowd silenced. People were probably anticipating his hybrid, so he blew them away with a jump serve so hard, the sound of it hitting the opposite court was probably heard by the whole stadium. Just to remind them that his jumpers were still deadly as ever.

 _Then_ he followed it up with hybrids that racked them enough points that the Adlers called a time-out again.

“You guys are on fire today,” their coach said, impressed. “Keep doing whatever you’re doing. Sakusa, you especially are in fine form.”

There was choked laughter from the rest of the team. Foster didn’t ask.

He thought that the first match of the season was the best game he’s ever played. He was wrong.

This, surrounded by everyone he loves while he does what he loves, was the _best ever._

_\--_

They win the game.

\--

After the awarding ceremony and the media interviews and the selfie-taking, the Black Jackals walked out of their locker room to head to their bus, high on their victory.

Their laughter was cut off by another “Eep!” from Hinata and they all stopped.

Waiting for them outside the empty stadium was Osamu...and the former members of the Inarizaki High School Volleyball Club. Including Kita. His parents stood further away, on the sidelines.

For a beat, no one moved. Then Osamu called out, “Congrats, brother.”

Atsumu made his way slowly at his twin, and the latter met him halfway for a careful hug that only got tighter the longer it went. He could practically feel everyone’s relief.

When they let go, Atsumu took a deep breath and faced his old team.

“Hey guys,” he said weakly.

He was met with a punch to the face that made him stagger a couple steps back. Reflexes quick as ever, Osamu caught his shoulder in a tight grip, bracing him.

There was a bit of commotion as the rest of the team held back Suna, who was cursing up a storm. “Four years!” he was screaming. “You ghosted us for four damn years! You wouldn’t even look at us when we’d face you in official matches!”

Atsumu raised his hands placatingly. “Okay! Okay, I deserved that. I’m sorry, alright? I was going through some shit!”

Kita cleared his throat and their old conditioning kicked in. They all stood to attention.

“That’s enough of that. Atsumu’s sorry, Osamu’s sorry, _I’m_ sorry. Everyone is sorry. Suna, no more punching.”

" _I'm_ not sorry,” Suna muttered, but he was calmer. Then he threw himself at Atsumu for a hug. Atsumu was unprepared for it and they fell to the floor laughing. The rest of the team piled over them shouting.

He heard Meian ask, “Is this normal…? Should we save him?”

In a long-suffering tone, Kita said, “It’s normal.”

By the time they were all upright, he wasn’t the only one tear-eyed. He got claps on the back and mutters of “Good game,” and “Wicked serve,” and “I always knew you were a monster, Atsumu.”

“So...we’re having a celebratory dinner tonight,” Atsumu said, gesturing back to his team. “If you’re staying in Tokyo, you should all join us.”

Bokuto yelled, “Hey, hey, hey! The more the merrier!” There was a smattering of agreement from either side.

Atsumu glanced over at his parents, who looked like they were crying.

“You too, Mom, Dad.” They smiled at him and nodded.

“Well…” he started walking backwards, and couldn’t help but remember that fateful afternoon, four months ago, when he saw his family waiting for him after the game. So much has changed. 

He blindly reached out a hand behind him and it was immediately enveloped by the familiar fingers of Sakusa.

“See ya!” he told his family and friends, grinning happily. Then they walked away.

They’ll all see each other soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of course Inarizaki made a cameo. They were the one thing Atsumu hadn't faced. And of course, SakuAtsu finally, now that Atsumu is whole again. Yay! Epilogue next!


	10. Another four months later

The cherry blossoms were in full bloom. A bunch of them littered the floor, much like the day Atsumu confessed to Kita Shinsuke.

But this time the cherry blossoms have been scattered deliberately, artfully coating the aisle leading up to the altar.

Today was Kita Shinsuke and Miya Osamu’s wedding. And Atsumu stood beside his twin near the altar as his best man.

As they waited for the music to start and Kita to appear, Atsumu bore the heavy stares of the crowd as stoically as he could manage.

He understood their curiosity. He knew that while the people in Tokyo or the rest of Japan didn’t know what really went down, it was a different story here in their hometown. They were surrounded by the people closest to them, the people who knew them for most of their lives. The people who were well aware that Atsumu used to date the groom, and that they have not seen hair nor hide of him for years.

“I’m sorry,” Osamu muttered from beside him. “I didn’t think this through. I just wanted you here.”

Atsumu took a deep breath then let it out. “It’s fine, Samu. I want to be here.”

Osamu suddenly looked at him urgently. “Do you? Are you really okay with this, Tsumu?” There was wild panic in his eyes, as if everything was just crashing down on him.

Atsumu reached out and gripped his brother’s bicep, hard. In a low voice he said, “Now is not the time to start second guessing, you stupid idiot.” Then he softened. “Osamu. I told you that one day I’d be able to accept this with a smile. Today is that day.” To prove it, he smiled at his twin.

Slowly, Osamu relaxed. He placed a hand over Atsumu’s on his arm, gave it a squeeze.

“Guess cold feet is a real thing,” Atsumu remarked.

“Shut up,” Osamu muttered. Then, “Thanks, Tsumu.”

Then the music started and Kita was there and he was walking down the aisle... not towards Atsumu, no.

And he was fine with that.

His eyes flickered to Kiyoomi, who was looking at him. He smiled, and Kiyoomi smiled back, just for him.

Yes, he was definitely fine with that.

The ceremony was beautiful. The vows were sweet and Atsumu had to swallow and look down when Osamu said, “I owe it to all the people I hurt to take care of you for as long as I live.”

He couldn’t help but smile when the two cemented their bond with a kiss, the guests erupting in cheers.

He had to pose for a lot of photos with Osamu and his family and Kita, so by the time they reached the reception, the party was well on its way.

Before he knew it, it was time for him to give the best man speech. He only had to tap a spoon on his wine glass a couple times, before everyone was quieting and looking expectantly at him.

Gossip-mongers. He took the microphone and greeted everyone. Then he glanced down at the speech he wrote down on his phone, and paused. He typed it out a few weeks ago when he realized he was going to have to give a speech — it was funny, and congratulatory, but now that he was here, he thought it sounded impersonal. He thought he owed Osamu better than that.

After an embarrassingly long pause, he locked his phone and pocketed it.

“Last year, Hinata — or Ninja Shouyou as you might know him best — asked me, Atsumu-san, is your twin bond with Osamu psychic?” Hinata beamed at him. “At the time of course, Samu and I weren’t speaking, because we were having the most dramatic fight of the ages.” Nervous laughter.

“So I said, nah. We don’t get along. Osamu is horrible.” More genuine laughter, including Osamu’s.

“But later, I couldn’t help but remember an old memory that hadn’t resurfaced in like, a decade. Just a totally random memory. Samu and I were maybe 7, and our parents went out on a date and said, _behave_. Stick together, don’t make a mess, we’ll be back in no time. Yikes.” He could hear his parents laughing this time, his father calling out, “It was a mistake.”

Atsumu agreed, “It _was_ a mistake, because they were gone for like 5 minutes and suddenly we had a fight and we were not speaking. We decided we couldn’t stand each other and neither of us were going to sleep in our room, and we went stomping off into separate areas of the house. I had no idea where he went to sulk.

“But then there was suddenly this _huge_ storm. And the thunder was loud and windows were rattling and the electricity honest-to-god went out. We couldn’t see anything, it was just pitch black. But my body seemed to know where to go because before I knew it I was reunited with Samu and we were hugging and crying and he was saying stuff like, ‘I couldn’t find you.’ Which was stupid because it was easy for _me_ to find him.” There was a sniffle.

He took a deep breath and continued, “So about eight months ago, when I woke up at 3:30 in the morning for seemingly no reason — I just had a feeling that something was about to change. I honestly did not know what woke me. And I just picked up the phone and dialed Osamu’s number for the first time in _four years_. I said, ‘I just woke up for no reason.’ And he said, ‘I just woke up a few minutes ago because of a nightmare.’ And it was like my body knew once again that my twin needed me.”

He could hear Osamu sobbing quietly now. Atsumu glanced at him and saw him dabbing at his eyes with a tissue.

Voice wavering, Atsumu said, “What Osamu and I learned the hard way is that unfortunately we can’t choose our family, but we love them just the same. We fight, we make up, we break each other’s hearts, and we build each other back up, and it’s just going to be like that for the rest of our lives. And my ‘twin bond’ with Samu might be a fluke, but even if it was, I know that he has always been on my side, even the times when I was wrong, even in the years we weren’t speaking.” He blinked his eyes hard and cleared his throat.

Then he looked at his brother and his husband. “Samu, Kita, you’re each other’s family now, and this is of your own choosing. And as we stand here in the starting line of the rest of your lives, I can’t follow you anymore. I won’t always be there to find Samu in a storm, or call him early in morning when he has a nightmare. But I know the both of you really well, and I _know_ that you two will be just fine. And you don’t have to worry about me anymore either, because I’ll be just fine, too.

“I know it took me a while, but I’m here, after over four years, to tell you that I wish you well. Make each other happy. Be there for each other. And Kita, please... stop him from waking me at 3 in the damn morning.”

Laughter and cheers erupted as Atsumu ended his speech. Osamu went over to him and grabbed him in a hug, sobbing against his shoulder.

“God, you’re gross,” Atsumu blustered but he ended up hugging his brother back. Tears slipped from his eyes and he pressed his face against Osamu’s hair. “You’re ruining my suit, stupid Samu.”

And then their parents were there joining the hug and crying. He spotted Kita at the corner of his eye, and he grabbed him and pulled him into the group hug too. Atsumu basked in the feeling of being at ease with his family again.

 _Forgiveness is warm._ Nell was right all along.

Then he thumped them in the back and stepped back, straightening his suit. “Dammit, I was doing a good job of not crying, ya just had to ruin it.”

His mother laughed and smacked him in the head. “You’ve always been an overly emotional child, Tsumu, don’t deny it.”

Pouting, he sat back down beside Kiyoomi and the rest of the Black Jackals, while Osamu and his parents returned to their seats.

Familiar fingers touched his cheek. He turned his face to Kiyoomi, who started wiping off his tears. “You _are_ overly emotional.”

He pouted harder but leaned into Kiyoomi.

Kiyoomi indulged his silent request and pressed a kiss on his forehead. “That was a nice speech.”

“Yeah, you made Hinata cry!” Bokuto said, jerking a thumb at the baby of the team. “Again!”

Hinata was dabbing a tissue on his cheeks. “I _knew_ your twin bond was real.”

Inunaki was just staring at Atsumu and Kiyoomi. “This is still too weird, ‘s too weird. That’s not Sakusa babying Atsumu, that’s a pod person.”

Kiyoomi sighed, aggrieved.

Later, when all the speeches were done and they were all watching the happy couple dance together slowly, Atsumu thought about how beautiful things can still grow from the dirt.

For four years this relationship was tainted, but now that this moment was upon them, it was more beautiful than ever. It was worth the wait.

Four years of strife. Four years of tears. But now they were all here together: his families, new and old. And Kiyoomi was beside him, and he always will be.

For the first time in over four years, he couldn’t wait to see what comes next.

He followed Kiyoomi into the crowd, wrapped his arms around him, and danced.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to those who stuck with this painful story until the end. I really appreciated all your comments, they kept me going! This was truly heartbreaking for me to write, but I was really happy at the end, so I hope you were too.
> 
> The twins in the storm story was based on a real story — I was high school classmates with one half of a twin and in one of her English essays (which she read to the class), she wrote about running endlessly across the house to comfort her scared twin. Although the quote "I couldn't find you" was from The Haunting of Hill House. What's with twins and storms, huh? Is there something about the lightning?
> 
> I'm @lettersinpetals on Twitter, come say hi!

**Author's Note:**

> In this universe, the V. League runs from October to January. My brain just decided that, idk. In real life, the V. League actually runs from October/November to March/April.


End file.
